It's All Part of the Experience
by Hearii
Summary: After being manipulated by Gin, Aizen decides it's time for the Espada to survey the human realm by visiting it themselves. But, perhaps sending a whole bunch of mental cases to survive on their own with human witnesses around wasn't the best idea...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hey, Hayley here.

I'm starting on my second BLEACH story considering my collection story, _Unattached_, is a never-ending thing. I'm sure fans for that story won't mind waiting a while longer for me to update (because God knows it takes me forever to just start the first paragraph).

This story isn't really something that will grow into an epic plot, but it will hold importance to me. This is a kind of prep for me, to help me see if I can actually hold the responsibility of a multi-story chapter. Why? Well, in my mind I've already started planning a story that's basically consuming all my time and creativity. I'm too scared to start it though, due to the fact that I think I'll totally butcher it. If I can prove to myself that I can write a story with many chapters, and not completely destroy my own mental planning, I will write that story. But more explaining on that matter will be for another time.

On a last note – which actually relates to what I just said – if I _do_ butcher this I will may ditch this story and save myself from self-humiliation. You reviewers are normally too soft on us! If you see something completely moronic or just badly written, please tell me. It's better than me not knowing at all. That being said, I'll only disown this story as a last resort, considering it will contain the Espada, which means Ulquiorra will be present. **NOTE:** I am a totally insane Ulquiorra fangirl. In fact, I hope Aizen wins just so the Espada can thrive – but I know it'll never happen.

And with that last bit of my overly-long author's note being finished, I bid you good luck in reading. I also bid myself good luck, except in writing. I think I may need it...

---

**It's All Part of the Experience**

_Chapter One_

The Most Lethal Combination

---

If you were to ask any person in the Soul Society (or even anyone in his – rather new – home of Hueco Mundo) if there was a word to describe Ichimaru Gin, the most likely responses would be 'crafty' or even 'manipulating'. Sure, other people would beg to differ – maybe someone like Hitsugaya Toushiro, who would define the man as 'bastard' and 'the-guy-who's-ass-I'm-gunna-freeze-next-time-I-see-him', even if that last one doesn't qualify as a word – but it would still be, in general, along the same lines as 'crafty' and 'manipulating'.

Ichimaru Gin wouldn't even deny it either. He knew it was all truth.

Though he found those accusations correct, he also found them a bit misleading. Had anyone ever stopped to think of _why _he was that way? Gin sighed, a bit dejectedly, mind you, as he lazily trotted through the bland halls of Las Noches. Hadn't anyones mother ever told them to not judge a book by its cover?

Surprisingly enough, there were reasons why the fox-faced man acted the devious way he did. It was also the reason why he decided to become a shinigami, why he followed Aizen to become a supreme leader of an up-and-coming new world, and why he had been the first person to ever 'know' the voluptuous Matsumoto Rangiku.

Ichimaru Gin was curious and bored. A lethal combination for this particular man.

A fun combination, but still lethal.

Especially to those around him.

Gin's trademarked evil grin fell slightly as he stopped walking around the complicated maze called Las Noches and stared up at the unnecessarily high ceiling. On that note, many odd questions flew through his head.

Why was this place so big for such a little amount of people? Gin looked at the white-wash walls. Why did Aizen insist on that 'no decorating' policy? Couldn't he add something fun to do into the walls, like a television or death trap? Why was there nothing to do in this place? Could he go out and do something?

Could anyone go out and do something, for that matter?

As clearly stated earlier, Ichimaru Gin was bored and curious. A lethal combination, especially for those around him. No truer words were ever written.

Especially, since this bored and curious man decided it would be fun to test out the newest theory he had that consisted of the human dimension, the Espada, and most importantly, a lot fun.

Only for Ichimaru Gin, though.

* * *

Aizen Sousuke, dark overlord of the fearful area he called Las Noches, drank his tea (with no sugar or milk, of course, because a dark overload just can **not** be seen drinking something sweetened) quietly as he watched his creations, the Espada, stare back at him expectantly. He hadn't the slightest clue when all ten of them had filed into the room, nor did he care. He always showed up after them, as it was typical dark overlord etiquette to show up fashionably late. The only thing he was to do now was serve his minions tea and watch the wheels in their heads turn, trying to decipher what the hell was going on at the moment. Or, to be more precise, what the hell was going to happen.

Aizen closed his eyes and set down his tea. He exhaled contently as he listened to the complete silence his monsters where giving him. The man basked in it for a few moments, certain that it wasn't going to last. Aizen Sousuke was sure he was no idiot. I, on the other hand, think we should hold him to that self-judgment.

Opening his dull brown eyes, Aizen looked down the long, white table at the ten Espada. He noticed how some of them were no longer staring at him, but the plain, off-white sheets of paper placed in front of a bit more than half of the number of the people seated. Szayel; Grimmjow; Noitra; Ulquiorra; Halibel; Stark. All of the said Espada had a piece of paper in front of them. Some of them glared at it with hate, some looked at it curiously, some just ignored it and looked to Aizen.

"My Espada," Aizen spoke formally. Any set (or, in Noitra's case, half-set) of eyes that was not looking at him was now. "I suppose that it is time to begin our meeting. Szayel," Aizen looked towards the pink haired man. "Status report?"

"Reports have been fine since those intruders were killed off," Szayel said calmly. "Not even a small disturbance has been recorded, Aizen-sama."

Aizen smirked. "Excellent," he muttered to himself. He couldn't have picked a better time to plan something like this. "Espada," he called again. "I have recently been informed that there is a flaw in the planning to take over all realms. Specifically the human realm." If there was any movement from the Espada before the comment, it had stopped at the sound of this. Each individual Espada looked at Aizen-sama differently, but the general expression was one that could only be described as expectancy for their leader to explain himself. Some of the Espada (the more observant ones) off-handedly noted to themselves that Ichimaru-sama's grin turned from casual to just plain plotting. Tousen-sama's expression remained the same, though, as if he had heard the unexpected words come from the man almost daily.

Aizen was pleased to see the expressions on all ten faces – it just proved that he kept his plan, as well as everything else, in tip-top shape. "Some of you may have realized now, but we know nothing about the human realm itself. The fact that we know of humans and the functioning of them is surprisingly not enough. What we need is a way to get inside the lives of humans." Grimmjow quirked an eyebrow at the foreshadowed statement.

"Aizen-sama," Halibel spoke up from the back. "Sorry for my ignorance, but I do not see why we... _need_ to know about humans if we are only going to take them over."

Aizen nodded his head once at the question.

"Excellent question, Halibel." Aizen admired. Halibel was always one of the more sensible of his creations. Picking up his tea cup, the man took an elegant sip and thought the question over. He, too, had debated the question in his own head once before coming to a conclusion. "It seems that we have all over-looked the fact that even though we will eventually be taking over all the humans of the earth, we still need to find ways to accommodate their needs."

Noitra snorted from his place, two seats down. "That's stupid." Beside him, Aizen felt Tousen tense up at the insult. "Why do we need to 'accommodate' them and shit, if we can just tell them what to do and how to act."

"Noitra," Aizen childed. "If we do not accommodate the human needs properly, the humans will die. If they die, what would we possibly order around?"

To Aizen's right, Grimmjow laughed at Noitra. "Yea, moron. Anyone could see that." Noitra responded by narrowing his eye, knowing that he would get killed if he broke out into a brawl with the Sixth Espada right now.

For the most part, Aizen ignored the silent threats the two Espada were sending each other. "Some of you may have noticed that you have papers in front of you," That was a lie; he knew that all of them knew this fact, but sometimes Aizen just loved bullshitting people and enjoyed thinking of others as below himself. "I would like you to please turn over those papers now."

Aizen watched with amusement as the selected read the paper with confusion. Stark scratched his head and leaned back in his chair, holding the paper up in front of his face. "I don't get it," he whined. "I mean, it just has a bunch of rules and instructions."

"Aizen-sama wishes for us to go the the human realm and survey the lifestyle of the average human." Ulquiorra spoke up, not missing a beat as he scanned over his own paper.

Half of the Arrancar looked up from their papers. Whether they didn't get a paper, or they did, the looked at Aizen disbelievingly.

"Yer kiddin'," Noitra complained. "Why in the hell should we do that?"

"We already went over that." Zommari's deep voice sighed at the obvious lack of attention span the Fifth Espada had.

"But... but we have to _live_ with those nasty little humans in there waste and everything?" Grimmjow complained. Ulquiorra shot him a look that seemingly said 'Wow, you _are_ as stupid as you look.'

"The span of this mission will be a year, maybe more depending on the information collected." Aizen said, interrupting the tense silence. Grimmjow groaned exaggeratedly and rolled his head back, obviously annoyed. This seemed to signal the rest of the Espada to begin complaining about the news.

Aizen waited dully the ten talked – or yelled – among themselves. A loud bang was suddenly heard from the end of the table. Every head turned to see Yammi, clearly fed up, with his palms flat on the table. "Who came up with this idea?" He growled, which roughly translated to 'Why the hell wasn't I chosen to go?'

Yammi, who was never one for tack, promptly started gasping for air as he felt Aizen's reiatsu force him to shut up and pay for his outburst. Aizen merely sipped on his tea as the giant withered onto the ground in pain. Inwardly, Aizen left out a content sigh. Maybe that would shut the troll up for good.

Yammi groaned in pain from his place on the floor. Aizen felt his anger starting to gather, as well as an intense migraine.

"Actually," Aizen pursed his lips. "It was Gin's idea." Remember when we said we'd hold Aizen to that comment of him thinking he was not an idiot? After hearing that, all the Espada felt something click into place and realized that this, in fact, had nothing to do with humans but rather their superiors amusement. If Aizen couldn't even see through his own subordinates alternative motives, than they really questioned why they followed the guy.

Again, Yammi groaned which made the Espada remember why. Sharply, Aizen stood from his throne and leaned over the table, supporting himself on his palms. Everyone looked at the frustrated leader, who was by now grinding his teeth. "Espada," he barked. "You have been given a mission to complete. You will follow it and get it right. The other half are staying her for other purposes, but you will go and you will report back when you are ordered back. Dismissed."

Aizen turned on his heel abruptly and stormed up the stairs to the large, white double-doors at the top of the stairs with Tousen and an unbelievably happy Gin right behind him. The Espada watched in silence as their superiors disappeared out of sight.

Sighing irritatedly, Stark slumped himself further into his seat. "What the hell just happened?" he groaned. All of the Espada selected for the mission looked around at each other, annoyed. Even Halibel and Ulquiorra looked peeved at the current situation.

Aaroniero, the multiple personality-disorder bastard, started to laugh shrilly. "I believe," the deep-voiced head began. "That you were just disowned by Aizen, all because of Yammi."

Grimmjow suddenly stood up and walked to the furthest end of the table, where Yammi was crumpled on the ground and still dealing with the sudden spike of Aizen's reiatsu, and gave a furiously kick to the Tenth Espada before storming out himself. Halibel sighed at the typical reaction.

* * *

Grimmjow kicked in the door to the six Espada's new 'living arrangement'. It was by that point that the other realized that the Sixth Espada loved kicking things.

Dust flew into the air as the wooden door fell onto the dirty hardwood floors with a hollow clunk. Begrudgingly, Ulquiorra took a step into the run-down house when no one else bothered to make a move in and started to survey the quality of the house. It wasn't good. The atrocious pink paint was chipped, the floors creaked and Grimmjow had to restrain himself from chasing after a mouse that scuttled by. Disgusted with the state of their new house, the others began to come in as well.

"He really couldn't have shelled out for something else, could he?" Noitra grumbled. Halibel crossed her arms across her chest.

"If you would have bothered to notice, this place is completely isolated. No one will even know we're living here." she explained, realizing that it probably would have been better for them to be placed among people so there would be a reason for her comrades to contain themselves. The four men in the room looked at her, almost as if asking her what to do next, but then they all heard Stark's voice echo down the run-down stairwell.

"You guys might wanna come pick rooms now." he called. Everyone started to walk up the broken stairs. Behind them, everyone heard a loud creaking and cracking sound which was followed by a deafening crash. Four pairs of eyes turned to look down at Noitra, who cursed loudly.

"Fuck!" He snarled, pulling on his leg, which was stuck halfway up the stairs. "God damn... sunnuva bitch... gigai!" The others rolled their eyes.

"It's not a gigai," Szayel said in a matter-of-fact tone. "My invention is much more complex than those mediocre bodies." The pink-hair man walked over to the struggling Noitra and smacked him on the head harshly, causing his fake body to dislodge from the stair and tumble down and break half of the other stairs along with it. The rotting wood sprayed everywhere and the others brought up their arms to protect their faces.

Noitra swore loudly as he landed with a thud on the ground. "You fucking fag!" He screamed at Szayel who smirked back at him. "I'm gunna kill you!" Jumping up onto one of the surviving stairs with ease, Noitra reached both hands out to strangle the Eighth Espada. Being wise, Szayel ran up the rest of the stairs and onto the second floor. Grimmjow, Ulquiorra, and Halibel watched in boredom, obviously expecting this to happen. Grimmjow admitted to himself that even though they had only been here for under five minutes, they had already destroyed parts of the house which was rather pathetic.

The others headed back up the stairs in the direction Szayel and Noitra did but were rather confused to see Noitra laying on the ground with Stark standing above him with his arm held out from his body. The only semi-logical conclusion the three could come up with was that Stark had somehow managed to close-line Noitra, but even then that was a bit sketch considering the immense height difference between the two. Szayel stood at the end of the hallway and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"Stark was right – you all better try and claim your rooms now. There are only five for the six of us."

Hearing this, Stark went into the room he had already claimed while all chaos broke out in the hallway. Szayel pulled open the closest door and threw himself in, while Noitra (who had made a miraculous recovery), Halibel and Grimmjow mimicked the movement, leaving Ulquiorra alone in the hallway.

Grimmjow smirked as he slammed the door to his new room, happy that the bastard finally didn't get something he wanted. Grimmjow turned to look at his new room – only to find that he had just claimed the bathroom and not an actual room.

"Fuck," Grimmjow panicked and threw himself back out. He looked down the hallway to see Ulquiorra headed towards the last room at the end of the hallway. Grimmjow ran towards the door and tried to shove the Fourth Espada out of the way. Ulquiorra didn't budge and reached his hand out to open the door. Grimmjow elbowed him in the stomach.

"No way, you fuckin' emo bitch." Grimmjow growled and reached for the door himself. "You're not getting this room."

Ulquiorra stared at him impassively. "You already claimed the bathroom." he glared, a cloud of impending doom gathering around his head. Ulquiorra used his other unnaturally pale hand grabbed onto Grimmjow's shirt and easily flung him back into the wall behind them. Opening the door, Ulquiorra stood in the doorway and looked back at the seething man. "Nice try."

Grimmjow let out a frustrated yell. "Now where the hell am I gunna stay?!"

The door beside him opened and Szayel poked his head out of his room. "Not our problem," he sighed. "We weren't the ones who picked out the house."

"Well who was?!"

"Ichimaru,"

Noitra also opened his door and leaned against the frame, laughing at Grimmjow. "Ya know, he probably thought about this already. Maybe you're supposed to curl up in front of the fireplace like a cat?" he smirked. Grimmjow in turn gave him the finger.

"I'm not a fucking cat," he snarled menacingly. Pulling himself off the ground, the blue haired man proceeded to storm down the hall to go see if there was any food in the fridge to full the stupid faux-bodies.

"You think he forgot you completely destroyed the stairs?" Halibel spoke up, having come out of her room to see all the commotion.

Seconds later a manly scream was heard, followed by several thuds as one of the mighty Espada's, feared by shinigami everywhere, had fallen down a set of stairs.

"Probably."

* * *

A/N: Yes... questions, anyone? Leave a review if you have any, as well as if you have any in-general comments. Also, don't be afraid to point out any mistakes or to tell me you didn't like it. I really don't mind – remember, this is almost like a test story.

-Hayley


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** You know, I should probably clarify a few things before I go any farther. First of all, all the Espada are alive and well (physically, because we know more than half of them are mental). This is just so I can rule out any inevitable deaths that will happen later on in the anime/manga. I already know a few of the Espada are gone (which I will not spoil for those of you who don't read the manga) but I really could care less. Also, you should congratulate me because before I created this chapter I read the manga that has not been made into anime yet, specifically for technical crap in this story.

Also, I suppose this story could be considered half-alternate universe. This is due to the fact that we're gunna pretend that the Soul Society lost and Ichigo, Rukia, Ishida, Chad etc. are dead (Or are they? Bum, bum, buuum). I have no clue what happened to Orihime yet, but I'll probably accommodate her somewhere along the plot – if this story even develops an actual plot, that is.

This story will not contain any cheesy romance. That being said, it may contain pairs – just no romance. Considering my pairing preference, if anything there will be NoitraxHalibel, since that's the only pairing I like with the Espada (that can also be translated to 'I do not like UlquixHime / GrimmxHime', so if I do bring Orihime in, she will not be in either pairing.), but the smallest of moments may be seen with other pairings I like. If you wanna know what those pairings are, check out my profile.

Lastly, I don't know how to define the 'humor' genre in this story. It may range anywhere between 'total crack,' to 'realistic'. I don't know. I do know I'm not a dreadfully humorous person most of the time... at least I don't think so.

Enjoy.

-Hayley

---

**It's All Part of the Experience**

_Chapter Two_

Just One, Big Dysfunctional Family

---

About an hour later, after all room claims had been made and Grimmjow quit swearing death upon everyone, the group stood in a large circle and glared at one another due to the current situation – being kicked out of their houses because of a certain fox-faced bastard with stupid motives.

"So," Halibel drawled coldly. "What do you suppose we do now?" Beside her, Noitra opened his mouth to suggest something and the woman's eyes looked over to him. "No." she snapped before he could say anything. "Nothing from you."

"Since when the hell can you tell me--" Halibel efficiently shut him up with a swift slash to the throat with her hand. The satisfaction of hearing Noitra cough and sputter made Halibel smirk. Across from her, Szayel cleared his throat to talk.

"I suggest we fix up this 'house'." He said, eyes flickering from one place to another, disgusted with the state of the living room. "There's no way we can live in such a disastrous looking thing." Grimmjow glared at him.

"As much as we'd love to accommodate **your **needs," He said sarcastically. "I think we should go check out the area and try to figure out where the hell we are." Ulquiorra rolled his bright green eyes.

"You forget that in order to fix up the house, we'll need to go search around the area to even find supplies." He droned. "I, too, think we really should fix up this piece of... trash." He agreed apathetically.

Grimmjow bared his teeth towards the melancholy Espada, as he was still furious about the whole 'room' incident. "There's a difference between looking for supplies and searching around, Ulquiwhora." He mocked. If there was the slightest change in Ulquiorra's expression, it was gone before it was noticed.

"That makes no sense."

"Sure it does," Noitra said. "It means that--"

"Didn't I say you weren't allowed to talk?" Halibel interrupted and glared at the tall Espada. He scowled and opened his mouth to reply but Stark cut him off.

"Well," he said, leaning against the nearest wall. "Don't you think we should look at those mounds of papers we were given?"

"You mean you haven't?" Ulquiorra said with the normal deadpanned expression. Unexpectedly the rest of the Espada shook their heads. Ulquiorra sighed, internally astounded by the idiocy of his comrades. "I already have." Coolly, he headed towards the door. "For now, I'm going to agree with Szayel and say we fix up this house. I might as well go and get some supplies."

"Hey, hold the fuck up." Grimmjow ordered. Oddly enough, the Forth Espada stopped and looked over his shoulder. "How the hell do you think you're gunna do that when you don't know where to get anything?!"

"If you would have bothered to read the letter," He replied darkly. "You would know how, moron." Turning back, Ulquiorra walked over the broken door, which had yet to be moved, and out onto the dirt path leading out of his new 'home'.

More than a bit enraged, Grimmjow crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the spot Ulquiorra had been. "That guy pisses me off so much," He snarled. The rest of the group rolled their eyes at his immaturity.

"So we've noticed." Halibel mocked, earning a glare.

"Well, now that the little hard-ass is gone, what the fuck should we do before he gets back?" Noitra grumbled.

"Reading those papers would be a start." Stark yawned. "After that, I suppose we could go do whatever the hell we want."

"Honestly, I want to get some different clothes." Szayel complained, picking at the orange shirt he had on with distaste.

Grimmjow snorted. "You would."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Szayel glared, teeth baring the tiniest bit.

Halibel, who was getting irritated just thinking about the amount of time she'd have to spend with these lunatics in the first place, gave the four men a frosty glare when they all broke out into an argument over nothing. When that tactic failed, the woman picked up the nearest item – a glass bottle – and chucked it at the nearest person's head – Noitra.

"Fuck!" Noitra yelled, covering his head to protect himself from anything else coming his way. "What the hell is your problem?!"

Hearing the outburst, the other three arguing Espada stopped and looked over at the now fuming Halibel. "I suggest," she growled menacingly. "That you all get your shit together if you're gunna be staying here. Because I swear I will kick all your asses if you don't knock off this shit right now. You know I'll do it, too." The four men all looked at the either ground, walls, abandoned furniture, or each other nervously to avoid looking at the blond woman who was uncharacteristically freaking out at them. "Go read those goddamn papers." No one moved. "Now!" She ordered, everyone jumping slightly at the volume. Slowly, the men edged their way up the stairs.

"You think she's PMSing?" Grimmjow hissed to Noitra, who shrugged.

"I dunno. Seems like it."

Neither Espada saw the wooden coffee table soar through the air, towards their heads.

* * *

Stuffing his hands in the pockets of the black, semi-baggy pants he wore, Ulquiorra found his head slightly tilt to the right, once again. Promptly straightening it, he cursed Szayel Aporro for not balancing out the considerable weight difference with his head. Due to the fact that he had grown accustom to the unnaturally heavy helmet that was normally on his head, he always had learned to tilt his head the the right to balance everything out. Without the horned helmet, the Fourth Espada felt the difference take it's toll on his fake body.

Another thing he hated about this body was he could feel the biting cold of winter air outside. He could refrain his body from reacting – an amazing feat that only someone, like himself, who was prone to his surroundings could acquire – but he could still feel the chill. He almost wished he had thought to grab a jacket or scarf from somewhere.

Shifting the plastic bags dangling from his wrists, Ulquiorra closed his eyes and tried not to think about his predicament too. Damning Ichimaru Gin to hell was enough, but soon enough he found himself cursing Aizen-sama for falling for such a simple-minded trick. The Espada had no business going on such simple missions to learn about human life. He had no business learning about the education of human life, either.

Opening his eyes, Ulquiorra pulled the several folded sheets of paper out of his left pocket and began to review over what he had already read with utmost hate for everything in the world. He unfolded the sheets and flicked through a few pages of technical formalities. _It's almost as if Aizen-sama had arranged this as a contract ensuring torture_, Ulquiorra thought to himself dully. Finally getting to the part he was looking for, he scanned it over quickly with his green eyes. Sure enough, the words hadn't changed (like he had ridiculously hoped), and it still read the same thing. He was assigned to research the education of a natural human.

If he had less pride and more emotion, Ulquiorra would have scowled. This was an absolute farce. How could looking into the schooling system possibly be relevant to anything?

Looking underneath the brief summary of his assignment, the Espada looked over the list of instructions. Apparently some of these instructions were complicated enough to have their own list of instructions and points to remember. Ulquiorra read the title of his first instruction:

Enroll yourself into high school

Ulquiorra felt a chill through his body, which was completely unrelated to the cold. He felt as if he had just read the most threatening comment in the world, promising death and many various ways of torment. Already irritated, Ulquiorra refolded the paper and shoved it back into his pocket.

Picking up his walking pace, Ulquiorra watched as a few people walked by him without a second glance... as if he was one of _them_. Obviously, he didn't like this, so he opted to glare at the apparel on his feet, which he was told were 'sneakers'. He didn't really like how they felt, as they were a bit confining, but he did like how much smoother he could walk in them. But, he quickly dismissed the thought and reminded himself that he'd much rather rip the shoes to shreds and return to Hueco Mundo than stay here another minute.

Turning onto a deserted side-street, Ulquiorra felt a sense of relief not being anywhere near those filthy humans anymore. He soon realized that he would be back 'home' eventually, which almost made him turn back into the crowd of humans. Why Aizen-sama ever kept half of the population now residing in that house astounded him, as most of them were even disgusting than the humans.

Brooding about the thought in his head, the Espada walked past a dark, clichéd alleyway. Not paying any mind to it, he walked past it, as he had already seen quite a few today. Though, when the alleyway started making noises, the Espada had to stop at the mouth of the path and feel a bit wary about it.

The noise first started as two low grumbles, which first caught his attention. Indifferently, the apathetic man slowly walked in, as he was not going to fret over such a simple thing. Taking a short look around his surroundings, Ulquiorra noticed that, ironically, he was surrounded by trash. The odd, but disgusting, stench it alley gave off forced him to cover his nose with his shirt sleeve while he looked for the odd growling noise. Going farther into the darkness, Ulquiorra heard the noise change from growls to odd, high pitched sounds. Silently walking forward, the green-eyed Espada found himself looking down at the source of the noise.

In the middle of the path, fighting over a pathetic scrap of meat, were two small dogs. Ashamed at himself for getting so worked up – or as worked up as he was capable of – over such a trivial matter, Ulquiorra glared accusingly at the two dogs. The one who seemed to be dominating, a white, mangy thing, _finally_ noticed his presents and looked up and into the stoic glower he was getting. The dog immediately jumped back and took a defensive position while he growled and bore his canine teeth. Not to be beaten by an animal, Ulquiorra intensified the dark glare. Letting out a scared yelp, the dog jumped and flattened it's ears while it ran into the back parts of the alley. Satisfied that the dog had learned its place, Ulquiorra turned to leave.

Stepping out into fresh air, Ulquiorra put his arm back down and began walking in the general direction of his house. However, he was only able to walk a few steps before he felt the undeniable presents of something behind him. Stopping, he debated whether or not to look back, but decided he was acting stupid if he let himself be followed. Turning his head over his shoulder, Ulquiorra looked back to see the other dog, the black puppy that was losing, staring at him. Fully turning around, he loomed over the dog, who was now sitting on his hind legs and panting happily at him. Using the same tactic he did on the white dog, he sent his most terrifying glare to the puppy. Astounded, Ulquiorra was taken back when the dog merely cocked its head to the side out of curiosity. He tried again. That time, the dog just yelped happily, causing Ulquiorra to take a half-step back.

Deciding it was useless, Ulquiorra turned back and picked up his pace. Still, the dog followed him, except it walked beside him this time. Abruptly stopping, he nudged the puppy with his foot.

"Shoo," he muttered, fed up. "Leave now." Instead, the dog came closer and sniffed at the plastic bag he had swinging from his wrists. Jerking them back slightly, Ulquiorra gave the animal an exasperated look. "There is nothing in this bag you could possibly want." Mentally scolding himself, the Espada realized he was trying to talk to a stupid animal. He suddenly had the urge to kick it, but refrained from behaving in such a shameful manner.

"Go," he snarled fiercely. The dog, surprised with the harsh tone, backed off a bit and laid down on the sidewalk. Satisfied enough, Ulquiorra walked away. Somehow, he had only just realized he was still quite a ways from the house. He still had yet to turn into the countryside, where the old, run-down house was, and that would take at least another fifteen minutes of walking. He still had a lot more time to curse everything in the world.

Finally, Ulquiorra reached the long, dirt path that lead up to the front of the house. Unsurprisingly, the outer state hadn't changed (if anything, it looked worse than before he had left) but at least someone had the decency to put the door back on its hinges. Juggling the plastic bags of supplies, such as nails, paint, and other necessary equipment, he opened the door and was a bit surprised to see the place more clean than what it was before. No doubt Halibel's doing – she may be a bitch, but she was the only other neat one of the Espada.

Ulquiorra kicked the door shut behind him and walked towards the kitchen (or, at least, what they all assumed to be the kitchen) and set the several bags down the wooden table where Stark, Grimmjow, Noitra, and Szayel sat. The four stared at him curiously for a minute, than at the floor, than back at him. He dismissed their odd behavior, since they were all odd to begin with, and started to take everything out of the bags silently. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Grimmjow scowl.

"What the fuck is that?" He snarled. Blinking at the item he was holding, Ulquiorra found himself wondering more and more if Grimmjow had suffered brain damage.

"A...hammer." He explained slowly. Grimmjow growled and stood up from his rickety chair and pointed at the floor.

"No! That, I mean!"

Turning slowly, Ulquiorra felt a wave of dread come over him as he stared in the black eyes of the little puppy that was following him before. How the hell did it follow him home without him noticing, let alone get into the house?

Thinking for a moment on what to do with it, Ulquiorra responded. "It's a dog."

"Well no shit. Why is it here?"

Hesitating, Ulquiorra reviewed possible things to say. If he told them that a little puppy had followed him home from downtown, he'd be a laughing stock to his fellow Espada. Especially, the more-than-rather annoying Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

Hold that thought.

Grimmjow always tried – and failed – to make his life miserable for no apparent reason. He was also a jaguar, part of the feline family. Did Grimmjow possibly feel _threatened_ by a measly _dog_? Quickly making a decision, Ulquiorra turned around and let out the smallest of smirks come onto his lips.

"It's here because it is our new pet... Grimmjow."

The room was silent. No one dared move or talk. Even the dog, who had been around for a grand total of five minutes, was wise enough to not let out any noise.

Grimmjow glowered menacingly at Ulquiorra. "What?" he hissed.

"Yea, I don't know." Szayel objected.

"We've already got one bitch in this house," Noitra mumbled. While everyone else seemed to agree, Ulquiorra was a bit lost since he, thankfully, wasn't there for Halibel's outburst. Regardless, he disagreed.

"Actually," he said dryly. "The only people who have a say in the matter are Halibel and Stark." He looked toward the man (who oddly seemed to be dozing off). "Stark?"

Stark may be a lazy ass, but he was definitely no moron. He knew why Ulquiorra was doing this – out of spite towards Grimmjow. As much as he loved to mock the other Espada, he was still a bit wary about keeping a stray in the house.

"'Dunno." he decided, propping a hand up on the table and resting his head on it. "As long as it's not noisy, I'm fine with it." As a side-thought he added, "I'd still ask Halibel though."

* * *

Halibel stood in the middle of her new room, as she did not trust the old matrices, and scowled at the assignment she had been given.

Family & Relationships

This had to be a joke. She, one of the most powerful Espada, was given an assignment so ridiculous that it bored her just reading the title? The functioning on how humans related to each other was no important matter to anyone, especially people who planned on ensuring fear into these humans, so the only logical explanation she could come up with was that either Ichimaru had come up with the assignment lists, or Aizen was a sexist bastard for thinking she could handle something like family and relationships. In the end, it was probably both, but she still couldn't help but want to throw the papers away and just forget about them. It had been hours since she had yelled at the other Espada, but she still felt unbelievably irritated with everything right now. She didn't _care_ what the humans wanted. That's just it! No one gives a damn!

Scoffing, she flipped through the rest of the papers. The instructions were simple enough for even Noitra to understand, so maybe if she completed the mission quickly, Aizen-sama would permit her to come back into Hueco Mundo.

It was logical enough.

Sighing and regaining her composer, Halibel decided it was about time to leave the (semi-)comfort of her room and head into the group of idiots. By the sound of Grimmjow's irritated yells, Ulquiorra had come back with supplies already so it was about time for everyone to make use of themselves and fix up this dump called a house.

Gracefully walking, or jumping, down the destroyed staircase and standing on the bottom platform, the blond Espada immediate felt cautious as she say everyone staring at her, along with a small, black dog panting in her direction.

She ignored it. "Yes?" She asked carefully.

"Halibel," Szayel spoke. "Ulquiorra wishes to know if we may keep this dog as a pet."

Catching on fast, she figured that this was just a plot of Ulquiorra's to piss of Grimmjow even farther than he was already pissed off. Also, the fact that the blue-haired Espada stood behind everyone and shook his head, telling her to say no, was a clear give a way.

"I suppose." she answered. "As long as this place is fixed up soon."

After Grimmjow's cursing fit was done, the Espada figured that they might as well break out the supplies and start repairing all the damages to the house. Even after Szayel looked around the house at all the damages that needed to be fixed (and there was a lot of them), they found no other way around it and decided to get to work. Sadly, this meant co-operation among all of them.

It was going to be a long year.

* * *

**A/N:** My, my. That was fun to write. By the way, I have no clue when the next chapter's gunna be out... so I'd appreciate if someone would volunteer to kick my virtual ass if I don't get it out within the next two weeks. I can only procrastinate so much.

-Hayley


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: For argument sake, I'm putting Stark as Espada 1, Halibel as 2, and Old-Nameless-Guy as 3.

But seriously, these relationships with the Espada and the Soul Society is just getting weird! Like, Ulquiorra to Byakuya, Stark to Shunsui, Halibel to Soifon (I suppose she can't be Unohana, huh?), Szayel to Mayuri, Noitra to Kenpachi, Old-Nameless-Guy to Yamamoto (both so out of place with oldness). It's starting to get weird. XD

I can't stop listening to '_Crush the World Down_', for those of you _Bleach Beat Collection_ fans.

---

**It's All Part of the Experience**

_Chapter Three_

Mother?

_---_

"These bodies are fucking weak," Noitra complained for the umpteenth time that day, shrugging his shoulders around uncomfortably to prove his point. While moving his shoulders around, he purposely dropped the three long planks of wood he was holding onto the floor beneath him. The hollow thud echoed through the house and the black puppy (still yet to be named) whimpered and scampered clumsily behind Grimmjow's legs. Obviously irritatedly, the Espada loomed over the dog menacingly and gave it furious glare. Yelping a second time, it moved again, except behind Ulquiorra, who had seen the whole display. Grimmjow scowled at him when he looked at him dryly.

"They aren't _weak_," Szayel childed Noitra. "It just contains your strength until--"

"In other words," Halibel interrupted coldly. "They're weak." Szayel huffed and threw up his arms, feeling under-appreciated.

"Have it your way. You just don't understand a good piece of technology when you... wear it?" Szayel mused on the thought for a minutes, wondering if that was the right way to put it.

Frustrated as well, Grimmjow tossed the hammer he was holding onto a nearby table. "We're getting nowhere." He exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest. "We've only fixed the kitchen and main room, meaning we have at least three more places to do on this floor! It's fucking pissing me off 'cause we've got to do the upstairs too." He glared at Noitra. "And the stairs themselves."

"Hey, that was Gaylord, over there's, fault!" He blamed with a snarled, pointing at Szayel.

Halibel looked to the ceiling, asking for patience. "We could have done a lot more by now," she said calmly.

"Yes, if no one had gone on that 'wall-bashing' spree," Ulquiorra blamed Grimmjow, looking at the only section of wall that they _wouldn't_ have needed to replace if it weren't full of deep dents. Then he gestured to the ripped up floorboards in the center of the room, "Or checked to see if there was anything valuable in the floor," Noitra scoffed. And lastly, Ulquiorra pointed up. The ceiling, once fine, was now littered with half hammered-in nails. "_Or_ convinced the roof would fall if we slept."

"Speaking of which," Halibel droned, looking around the room. "where _is_ Stark?"

* * *

Stark flopped down on the not-so-white bed, clothes and all, and sighed with relief. Halibel could be a real drill sergeant when she wanted to, even if he didn't necessarily have to listen to her because of rank. So, he decided to sneak away from the work and left it to the others so he could catch up on some reading he was required to do. He hadn't even started on that huge pile of paper Aizen had give him, even when he had been in his room for an hour or so while Ulquiorra had left to gather supplies. Glaring at the stack, he swore Aizen hated him, since he had been given an abnormally large pile with instructions to boot. The only one who had more instructions was Szayel, who had obviously gotten some crappy job. Why couldn't Aizen have given him something easier and gave his assignment to Ulquiorra or something?

Realizing there was only so long you could glare at a stack of papers, Stark sat up and reached for the thick booklet. He groaned when he saw the amount of small print on the first page. So, a half an hour and thirty-two and a half pages later, when Stark actually got to the point of the book, he was irritated when he saw the title of his newest assignment:

Workforce

Internally moaning that God _must_ hate him (and possibly have a stick shoved up his ass) – God being Aizen, of course – Stark decided it would be best to just get it over with and read everything else; even though, he really hated to do so. So, when his door was busted open and his fellow Espada were yelling at him to get his ass in gear and get to work, Stark was more than glad to comply.

Because, honestly; why did Aizen have to put in a full page in the manual on the importance of flushing a human toilet?

* * *

While Stark may have thought he was having a hard time with his assignment already, Grimmjow was ready to claw out the eyes of the next person who came within a ten-foot radius of him after reviewing what he was supposed to do. 

History and Background

Grimmjow ground his teeth and wondered if the Espada were allowed to switch assignments around. Of the six given missions, he would bet anything that his must be the most boring of them all, and for the life of him, Grimmjow couldn't understand why Aizen would choose _him _to look into something like that - for obvious reasons, like his lack of patience, anger problems, irritability, etc. etc.

Frustrated, Grimmjow crumpled the papers up as best he could, stood up from the dinner table, and shoved them into the tall, white container that was cold inside. Just looking at the thing, Grimmjow began to growl over the unfairness of not even having his own room to throw the papers around. Ulquiorra, the damn bastard, always got what he wanted – he wants the room, he gets the room; he wants to keep the dog, he keeps the dog; he wants to take his prey, he takes his prey; he wants the last goddamn piece of pie, he gets the goddamn last piece of pie!

Eyes shaded by his blue hair, Grimmjow let a noise almost like a cross between a growl and hiss come out from the back of his throat. Ulquiorra wasn't so great. He really wasn't. All he did was stand around with about as much emotion as a wall, and be Aizen's bitch. But this was it – the last straw.

Grimmjow had decided it. Ulquiorra was not going to get what he wanted from here on in.

* * *

Grimmjow was not the only one who had made an oath to himself that day. Halibel had also swore something to herself and planned to carry out action as soon as the house had been somewhat repaired. She was going to get into Hueco Mundo before the month was up, no matter how hard she had to work for it. 

The Espada (for the most part) had spent all day fixing up their run-down living house and had successfully renovated the living area, kitchen, downstairs bathroom, dining room, and almost finished the stairs. All they needed to complete now was the outer part of the house, the upstairs bathroom and each bedroom. They all agreed it would be best for them to finish remodeling their own rooms on their own time, due to the fact that they were fed up with co-operating/dealing with each other. Halibel, specifically, was very annoyed with Noitra's constant attempts at groping her at every opportunity. She decided she'd have to give him a good 'talking' to later on what the hell is meant for the bedroom _only_.

Since they had gotten so much done in a little amount of time, Halibel told herself that she could always renovate her room later, or not at all, if she managed to finish her mission and convince Aizen-sama to let her return to Las Noches. After that, she fueled her gigai with random cupboard items she found (and admitted to herself, but no one else, that she was in love with the food 'chocolate') as she read through the list of instructions with a critical eye. She noticed that the instructions were really just helpful suggestions on where to start and what she was looking for exactly. On her way out the door, she grabbed a pad of paper and a contraption called a 'pen', which was apparently the equivalent of an ink brush in the human world. Using these items, she could take carefully note of everything 'family and relationship' related thing she saw without having to completely remember it when reporting back to Aizen-sama.

By now, it had been five days of observing families and she had learned quite a bit already. She highly doubted that any of the other Espada had started their missions, even Ulquiorra, and was indulging on the fact that she had the upper hand on everyone. As well as learning about the basics of family, Halibel had found out a lot of the basis of human life itself. The area they were currently in seemed to revolve around the human currency – proving how greedy the species really was – and the material you could buy with it. Shamefully enough, the woman had found herself enjoying one aspect of the human life – shopping. By now, she had realized that Aizen had sent them way-more-than-sufficient funds to maintain their gigais and house, so she decided that spending money on insignificant things was reasonable enough. Of course, the other Espada would just claim that she was looking for excuses to go on shopping sprees, but Halibel was sure that she could manage to beat them down with a chair gracefully, if she really wanted to.

About twenty minutes after lunch, she had decided she needed a break from watching over a family of four since she was tired of seeing the air-head mother of the family coddle her toddler while he threw a fit in the candy aisle of a store. She walked by a clothing store, casually looking through the glass at an outfit displayed on a stiff, headless manikin. She compared her own outfit – a long-sleeved black turtle neck and a pair of dark blue jeans – to the one in the store and came to the conclusion that even though the one behind the window was fashionable, hers was definitely a better combination. Nonetheless, she was still tempted to walk in the store and buy yet another outfit. Disgusting as they were, humans had much more fashion sense than whoever designed the Arrancar uniforms.

While looking at her own reflection in the window, Halibel was suddenly distracted by a child who was wandering up and down the sidewalk on the other side of the road, crying obnoxiously. Sneering, Halibel dully wondered where the mother of the loud monster was, obviously fed up with the mere thought of children after having spent days of just looking at them. When the cries only became louder and – if possible – more obnoxious in her ears, the woman gave into a spur-of-the-moment urge to 'help' the little girl. She spun on the heel of her black boots elegantly and took a moment to stare at the revolting child. Her face was dirty, hair tangled into a black bird's nest, pink shirt stained with pizza sauce, skirt ruffled ungracefully, and shoelaces untied and folded into several knots. The stuffed bear she held by the arm was worn and filthy, and possible soaked in tears since she was using it as a handkerchief. A large truck whizzed by each of them with a thundering roar, scaring the girl into wailing _louder. _Narrowing her eyes, Halibel marched through the road and the child stopped crying as she somehow managed to see Halibel coming through all the tears. She looked straight at her, almost like prey being hunted by a lioness. Secretly, Halibel smirked in her mind and basked in the silent glory of being able to shut up a child by walking up to it with cold eyes. The child's grip on the fuzzy arm of the bear tightened, eye's widened and watered, and she balled her other hand into a tight fist at her side.

Halibel took a controlled step past the halfway point on the road and a horribly deep roar came up to her on the side suddenly. Before she could turn her head, Halibel then heard a high-pitched screech and her thoughts immediately flew to thinking Aaroniero had appeared out of no where and both heads had simultaneously combusted into screams. Before she knew it, Halibel's feet were lifted off the ground, her head turned away unwillingly, and she landed on the asphalt ground with a thud on her shoulder, completed with her head smashing on the ground when gravity caught up.

Cringing, the Second Espada felt her head throb painfully and wondered why the gigai easily felt pain. The child, still on the sidewalk, screamed louder than ever (which could have been caused by the pounding in her head) but seemed less annoying. Heaving a sigh, Halibel pulled herself up off the ground and away from the pool off her own blood which gushed out of her head wound. The clapping of stiletto heels, a sound she was now familiar with, came close to her as she brushed off rocks and dust off her pants and shirt. She looked up to find a worried woman with long, blond hair rushing up to her after she got out of her car. Frantic, the woman started sputtering incoherent noises before she finally spoke.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" she said, panicky. "Here, get in my car and I'll take you to a hospital to fix up your head." Grabbing Halibel's arm, she started to lead her to her car while she muttered apologies under her breath with wide eyes. Shaking the hand off her arm, Halibel backed off the woman a bit. She thought she could safely assume that a hospital was a sort of human care-unit and it would be ridiculous for her to even think about going. It was a bit tempting, though, since her head ache was growing ever second due to the child screaming to her left.

"No, that's alright." Halibel said calmly to the lady who seemed more upset than her – and Halibel was the one who just got hit by a car. "I'll be fine." Assuring her would be the best thing right now.

Apparently not. "No! We have to get you fixed up before you bleed to death!" the woman screeched.

Sighing, Halibel decided to use a new tactic. "It's fine. It doesn't even hurt that much – cuts on the head normally bleed a lot as it is." The woman still looked unconvinced. "Look, I was just going back to my house and my...brother," she stuttered. "he's a doctor." It wasn't a complete lie. Szayel created the gigai so he should be able to fix it. Worrying the woman was the last thing she wanted to do right now, and finding the _still_ crying child's mother was top priority on her list right now.

The woman hesitated, and looked over Halibel, who was standing up perfectly straight with a helpful smile. Resigning, the woman slowly walked back to her car. She was still unsure, but Halibel wouldn't allow herself to be helped. Putting a hand on the door of the car, the woman bit her lip.

"If you're sure..." she mumbled. "I still feel bad about leaving."

"Oh, I'm telling you it's okay!" Halibel told her kindly. "Everything will be fine." She stared at the blond until she decided to get back into the idle car. Stepping off onto the sidewalk, Halibel waved and watched as she slowly drove passed her. Uncertain, the woman waved back and drove down the street and Halibel watched until the red blob was out of sight. She lowered her hand and let out a relieved sigh – close one.

The child sobbed behind her. Oh, right.

Turning her attention behind her, Halibel cautiously approached the little girl, all thoughts of scaring her senseless gone. She crouched down to the girl's level, and looked her in her big, brown eyes. The kid didn't seem as scared before, but rattled regardless. Her teddy swung from her clenched fist.

"Hello," Halibel greeted lightly. "My name is Halibel, and I was just wondering if something is wrong." Sniffing, the child sniffed and rubbed her eyes while she nodded. Halibel frowned sympathetically. "Aw, what's wrong? Can you not find your mother?" Again, the little girl nodded. Halibel smiled reassuringly. "Well, how about I help you find her?" Slowly, the woman grabbed the child's hand and eased her down the sidewalk.

"E-Excuse me, lady?" the little girl said in a high voice. Halibel looked down at her with almost a maternal smile. "You're getting blood on Mr. Stuffykins."

After Halibel tried feebly to wipe the blood off, she decided it would be best not to hold the hand the child was also holding '_Mr. Stuffikins_' with.

Oh dear God, what has happened?

* * *

Grimmjow looked up at the ceiling dully, waiting. The bed underneath him squeaked when he shifted and poked his back uncomfortably, but laying down eased the gigai since he had gotten no sleep last night. He tried not to let it show, but his eyes still drooped and head nodded off. _Wait,_ he told himself. _Wait a while before you sleep. Wait for the show._

Light footsteps could be heard coming down the hall and caused Grimmjow's body to tense with anticipation. He forced himself to keep lying down, but the smirk on his face wasn't so easily wiped off. He crossed his arms behind his head casually just as the door to the room creaked open swiftly.

"What are you doing here... Grimmjow?" Ulquiorra stood in the doorway stiffly with the same wall-like expression as always. Satisfied that there was no dog behind the Fourth Espada, Grimmjow turned up into a sitting position and rested his forearms on his knees. His smirk grew when Ulquiorra's lips twitched slightly downwards, disapprovingly.

"What does it look like? I'm just hanging out in _my_ room."

"No matter what comments you spread around Hueco Mundo about Aizen-sama and I, I will still point out that I definitely do not show interest in men. Thus, as I know this is my room, I will not be sharing a room with you." his comment was quick, as if this was a rehearsed play and he was spouting off a line.

Grimmjow tried to ignore the implication, but still felt his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's not your room now. I'm claiming it, and there's nothing you can do about it."

Grimmjow faltered when Ulquiorra looked slightly mystified and disgusted at once. "Do I want to know how you 'claimed it'?" Ulquiorra asked. "Because if it's what I think it is--"

Snarling, Grimmjow stormed over to door and slammed it shut in the other Espada's face before he could finish the joke.

...Joke?

It seems human living was already affecting the Espada in some scary ways.

* * *

Halibel hummed a happy tune as she walked into the house with grocery bags dangling from her hands. Her arms were also wrapped around several large boxes filled with miscellaneous items, like silverware, lamps, and cleaning supplies. She peaked around the boxes to see if anyone was in the room with her, so maybe she could get some help, but when she heard or saw nothing she continued to the proclaimed kitchen. She was surprised to see everyone in the room, sitting at the table. 

"Was everyone waiting for me?" she asked rhetorically. The others looked at each other nervously after hearing the light tone she used with them. "You really shouldn't have. Here, I'll get dinner ready. You wouldn't believe the options they had at the store! So, I just got a precooked dinner for us." All the while, she unpacked six plates and put even portions of food on them. The other Espada looked at her back, some of them more than a bit scared.

"Uh...?" Stark broke the choking silence among everyone else. "Why are you covered in blood?" _And why are you so damned happy all the sudden?_ Undoubtedly, everyone thought a killing spree was what had lightened her mood.

Halibel grabbed half the plates of food and started setting them down in front of people. When she was finally seated herself, she fingered the huge lump on her head that was concealed by hair, still soaked in her own blood. "This?" she asked. Some of them nodded. _What else could we be talking about? _"Oh, it's nothing really. Some lady just accidentally hit me with her car, but as you can see, everything is fine!" Her tone was too carefree, like she was talking about accidentally bumping into someone rather than getting hit by a car.

Noitra gave Szayel a sneer. "Did you fuck up her gigai or something? Because this is creeping the shit out of me."

Szayel shrugged, uncaring. "It can't be the fake body – if it were, we would all be acting this way." Nearly everyone had trouble imagining themselves and their other comrades, prancing around happily, like Halibel suddenly was. When Noitra offered a glare promising death if he didn't do something to fix the newest problem, Szayel turned his attention back to the disoriented woman. "Would you mind telling me what happened exactly?"

Halibel smiled and sent chills up everyone's spines. Somehow, she managed to miss the disturbed expressions on everyone's faces. "Well, I was walking across the road to help this child who was crying-" Already, everyone found something wrong with that picture. "-and a car turned the corner of the street beside me. It accidentally hit me, but like I said, it's nothing big. I just got a bump on the head and a big headache." Her laughter put fear into the pits of everyone's souls.

All heads turned to back look at Szayel who was in deep thought. Sighing, he stood up and walked over to Halibel. She followed the group example and gave him a curious glance as he daringly tilted her head to the side. Most everyone expected a cero to be sent to his head, even Szayel himself, but she just remained still as he looked at the swelling. Moments passed, and Szayel finally quit checking her head and sat back down. Before anyone could ask, Szayel closed his eyes and spoke.

"The only conclusion I can come to is her brain has some swelling as well. I have no clue why she's acting like a mother, instead of suffering the typical memory loss most people would, but I can only suspect it would be caused by the amount of time she spent researching families." He leaned back in his chair.

"That still makes no fuckin' sense," Noitra pointed out. For once, Szayel agreed and nodded his head.

Stark leaned on the table. "Well, how long is it gunna last?"

"Well, considering the amount of damage to the exterior of the head and using that to determine the interior swelling, I can only base my answer off of her previous memory usage in the fake body--"

"We didn't ask for the scientific term," Grimmjow growled. "Just tell us how long she's gunna act so fucking creepy!" Halibel looked at him disapprovingly, like he was a child who needed soap in the mouth. Regardless, she kept her mouth shut so she could hear what Szayel had to say, since she had no clue what they were talking about.

"The body is meant to function like a normal human person, for the most part. But, it's not supposed to change form. That means, that although the swelling formed, it may take quite a time for it to go down."

"Meaning...?"

Szayel sighed, again, and regretfully said, "She could be like this the whole year." Grimmjow scowled; Stark flinched; Noitra's eyes darkened; Ulquiorra... basically remained the same.

Halibel looked at each of them disbelievingly. "What's wrong with you guys?" she asked. "You act like I'm a completely different person! I'm not acting differently." Again, heads shot to look at Szayel who shook his head, telling them he honestly didn't know what this was about. She hadn't lost her memories, it seemed, but it was like she was confusing herself with someone else. "Now, eat up." She looked reproachingly at their untouched foods. Her eyes landed on Ulquiorra. "Especially you, Ulquiorra. You're all skin and bones and need to get some colour into your skin." If Grimmjow wasn't completely mortified by the odd statement, he would have laughed at the Fourth Espada.

While the other Espada picked at their food, Ulquiorra glared darkly at Halibel, who was biting into a piece of chicken, for the unnecessary comment. "Halibel, you are my superior, not my mother." he pointed out. Halibel looked at him, inquiringly.

"Well, that's a bit of an odd comment for you to make." she said with a bit of a laugh. The table froze midway through eating or poking at their food.

Ulquiorra quirked an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" he challenged.

"_'You are superior, not my mother,'_?" she quoted. "I mean, weird choice of words considering I _am_ your mother."

Szayel's eyes widened considerably. Stark choked on food halfway down his throat. Grimmjow and Noitra froze. Ulquiorra's expression remained the same, but a faint tick was seen in his eyebrow.

Suddenly, Grimmjow and Noitra both burst out into laughter simultaneously. They roared with it until they had to support themselves on the table, just because thinking of something as absurd as Ulquiorra being Halibel's son.

Stark, who somehow gained the ability to talk while choking, looked at Halibel with fearful eyes. "Oh, please tell me he's the only one who's your son!" he begged. Halibel didn't seem fazed by the cackling in the background.

"Of course not," she replied to mostly everyone's relief. "What's wrong with you guys today? Of course Noitra and I only had one son." Although Grimmjow's laugher increased tenfold, Noitra felt like the words had just smacked him in the chest and he stood up, knocking his chair over when he stumbled backward. Szayel and Stark pushed their chairs away from the table hesitantly, dreading the upcoming... lover's spat? Ulquiorra was just glad that someone was brought down with him.

"I – Wha-- I mean, I know we--, but-- No! What the hell?!" Noitra shouted. "That's just... no!"

Halibel also stood up, but rolled her eyes and walked to the counter and picked a glass out of a cardboard box. "You guys are acting so weird today." she said in denial. Rinsing out the glass she looked back at all the Espada behind her, who were still stunned (minus Grimmjow, who was still having a riot with the newly acquired 'info'). "Does anyone else want something to drink?"

* * *

A/N: Woah, boy that was so unbelievably fun to write, that last part. I hope I mind-raped some of you, while putting the mental image of Halibel and Noitra being Ulquiorra's parents, because that was my intention. I want to slap myself for adding something completely random like that, but I have the feeling that a motherly Halibel is bound to bring the 'crack/weirdness' factor that this story needs. Oh well, this is supposed to be a totally crack story so... have fun? 

I'd like to thank all reviewers, especially Meng-4-2 and oliva for their fanart. XD I've never had fanart, let alone received it by the second chapter. You'll have to ask Meng-4-2 about hers, if you wanna see it (since I'm not sure if she put it up anywhere). If you wanna see oliva's, ask me, since I have it on my computer. I have Meng-4-2's as well, but I'd prefer if you asked her about it, since it's her work.

Again, though, I'd like to thank Meng-4-2 for kicking my virtual ass. :P Waita go, Meng!

-Hayley


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the lateness of the chapter. Besides school, a ringette tournament, and annoying friends, I spent a lot of time staring at a partially shirtless Ulquiorra Schiffer. That's about the best excuse I can give you guys. Some of you may be able to understand, while others may agree with my friend and say that seeing that was the grossest thing ever since you couldn't tell his shirt apart from his skin. Oh well, she can go to hell. o Again, I apologize but would like to personally and publicly apologize to ribbonrebel31. Yea, I tend to accidentally lie and procrastinate. A lot.

The newest Bleach chapter from this week scared me. I had so many mixed emotions. **SPOILER HERE, AVERT YOUR EYES IF YOU HAVE NOT READ. I'M GIVING YOU PLEANTY OF WARNING SO DUN BLAME ME IF YOU FAIL TO NOT LOOK: **First, Tesla's tear made me growl just thinking about the yaoi fangirls at home about to hug the screen. And the fact Noitra now joined the dead-spada club doesn't help either. It got rid of the yaoi... but at a horrible, horrible price. V.V I didn't like Spoon-spada much... but now they just seem to be kicking off the Espada one by one, with the exception of Yammi, who doesn't seem to want to make an appearance long enough to DIE. (-mortified look- Watch out, Ulquiorra! Stay in your time out, or you're next! -sobs dramatically-. If/When Ulquiorra dies, I will cry for three days straight followed by staring at a wall blankly for a month. Yea, that's how bad it'll be. So STAY, Ulqui-sama! Stay or else you'll be killed!) Stark appearing out of no where was a nice touch – spoiled, though, when Aizen looked like he was about to kiss/rape Orihime. -twitch-

**END SPOILER**

Yea, it was a pretty life-scarring chapter for me... I can't wait for the next one! ... As long as Ulquiorra doesn't make an appearance (which is odd for me to say...) I'm fine with nearly anything.

---

**It's All Part of the Experience**

_Chapter 4_

First Day

---

It seemed that the six Espada had miraculously survived their first week of living in the human realm. The accomplishment could have been a cause for a celebration, if anyone was willing; which, considering the group, was of course a negative. There were only two people in the whole household who were in high spirits – Halibel and Grimmjow – while the rest cowered in corners, remained silent, or took part in scientific experiments that tried to defy God and the laws of physics.

Speaking of which, Szayel Aporro Grantz hunched over the table and poured beaker after beaker filled with a strange, blue liquid. The make-shift lab he had set up in his room was yet to be full operational, as the subject table hadn't been set up meaning he could preform live specimen experiments. Still, the room would make any meth lab in the county take a run for it's dirt, but still usable, money. Fluids flowing through swirling tubes were being pumped in every direction; the small amount of light in the room glared off of anything with a chrome layering; jars with indescribably deformed objects sat on s dusty shelf (despite it only being installed a day ago, it was already _filthy_).

Szayel sighed as he concluded the easy experiment, annoyed to not be able to operate on anything. The lone beaker in use sparkled with a newly developed, white liquid, it's contents nearly spilling over the edge of the glass. Szayel held it up into the small bit of light in the room that filtered through a dirty window. Satisfied, he transferred the concoction into a slightly bigger container.

Setting it down, the man walked toward a light switch and flipped it up – how they managed to get electricity was beyond him, but hey! he wasn't complaining. Again, he looked at the white liquid in better light and rolled his eyes.

Maybe now everyone would calm down after the event with Halibel two days ago.

* * *

While Szayel was relieved to be using lights, Noitra seemed to not have a use for them as he sat in a dark corner of his room, cowering uncharacteristically. Although the image was a ridiculous one – and he knew it himself – Noitra couldn't find the ability to walk out of the room and go downstairs. 

_She_ was there...

He froze up when the doorknob began to slowly turn, then jangle. He eyed the door suspiciously, cursing that he was not able to sense anything in the damned body. Grantz was more of a retard than Aizen gave him credit for, and the last thing he wanted – needed – was to be viciously attacked by Halibel right now.

And by viciously attacked, he meant smothered.

The doorknob still rattled, and whoever was outside was irritated to find out that Noitra was smart enough to lock the door. It shook some more, then stopped suddenly. Noitra let out a relieved sigh.

Suddenly, the door was blown off its hinges and Noitra swore that he would see Grimmjow standing among the dust with his leg high after kicking it in. Then Grimmjow would grin wolfishly and laugh at his superior and remind him about his 'significant other'; that she would want to see him soon.

But much to his relief, or possibly despair, Ulquiorra stood in Grimmjow's place and slowly lowed the leg he had used to kick in the door. The expression on his face was different – not by much, but it was still the most outraged Noitra had ever seen his superior. Granted, it wasn't outraged at all but anyone could tell the the Fourth Espada wasn't it the best mood.

Seeing Ulquiorra brought on a bad feeling which made Noitra stand up and back himself into a wall. His apparent one and only son glared at him darkly.

"I've been kicked out of Hueco Mundo, my room, and had to enroll in this 'high school' thing all in the past week." His monotone voice was dusted with loathing as he counted reasons to hate his life on his fingers. "You can not leave me to drown out there."

" I don't know what you're talking about," Noitra denied, looking away. Ulquiorra stepped into the dark of the room and flipped on a light, causing Noitra to shield his eyes and scream in agony. If it were another time, Ulquiorra would have given him the most disbelieving look he could muster – again, not that disbelieving as far as Ulquiorra's lack of expressions go – but right now he couldn't care less about the Fifth Espada. While Noitra was busy groaning in pain, Ulquiorra gripped onto the collar of his black shirt and pulled him down to his eye level. Considering the immense height difference that was still present, human world or Hueco Mundo, Noitra was now crouched over to half his normal height just to _be at _his eye level.

"If you leave me down there with her, I will make sure you don't make it back to Hueco Mundo." Ulquiorra threatened calmly.

As if the words snapped Noitra's mind back into pace, his eyes narrowed and he slapped the hand off his shirt. "You can't do fuckin' shit to me." he snarled into the impassive face. "If anything, I'll kill you." Somehow, he ending up being the one grabbing onto Ulquiorra's collar and lifting the smaller man into the air slightly. The pale man ignored it, and just like Noitra did, brushed off the offending hand.

"If you don't come down now, she'll come up on her own. I have to leave for school so I can't hold her company forever." Ulquiorra let a small smirk come on his lips after seeing Noitra start to cower again. He delivered a final blow, "And I can almost guarantee it will be worse if she has to come up here on her own." And Noitra was out the door in a split second.

* * *

Grimmjow was happy. Better yet, he was ecstatic. Everything suddenly seemed to be looking up for him as of two days ago. Except for the glaring fact that he was no longer in Hueco Mundo with Fraccion to do his every bidding, Grimmjow could honestly say he never felt better. 

"Tell me, Halibel." Grimmjow said around a mouthful of fluffy pancakes. "What was Ulquiorra like as a child?"

It seemed that the more time that wore on the more Halibel's motherly alter-ego rubbed off on her. Eventually, it came to the shocking point where the female Espada was gaining fake memories of days long ago in Hueco Mundo, stories about her 'family'. Stories were now providing hilarious entertainment to Grimmjow.

Halibel dried her hands off on her apron and sighed wistfully like an old woman caught up in the memories of her as a child. "Oh, he was so adorable. He was actually extremely clingy, you know?" She tugged at the sleeve of her shirt to emphasis the point. "I remember he had this old stuffed plush – a bear, I believe – called Mr. Stuffykins or something." Even if Ulquiorra being Halibel's son was actually true, Grimmjow would know the story was fake. After a few hours of mental scarring, when Halibel came back to the house, Szayel and Stark had managed to corner her into giving them every small detail of her 'accident'. The little girl she helped had a plushie, it's name Mr. Stuffykins. The only conclusion Grimmjow could make of what she had told him just now was that she was losing memories and gaining fake ones.

A wide grin stretched across Grimmjow's face. This was just priceless. "Go on," he encouraged eagerly.

"Stop harassing her, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra spoke from the doorway, playing with a strange, black piece of cloth that was tied in a knot around his neck. Grimmjow hoped he was going to strangle himself with it.

Behind him, Halibel gasped and ran up to Ulquiorra to engulf him in a hug. "Oh, Ulquiorra, you look adorable!" Pulling away, she looked at the emotionless Espada's outfit. Grimmjow snorted a laugh and Noitra (who had lallygagged in the living room) started to walk back up the stairs again, very slowly.

Pfft. Commitment issues.

Halibel examined her 'son' up and down. His uniform wasn't anything special – the basic high schooler style. Black dress pants; white dress-shirt; black tie. His black hair remained the same without the horned helmet. His face, although sickly white still, was missing the green streak marks he usually had. Anyone would think he was your basic teenage high schooler. It was borderline creepy.

Grimmjow smirked at how ridiculous Ulquiorra looked. "Tch. I wasn't _harassing_ her. I was just asking her a question." Grimmjow grumbled. Looking around Halibel, who was rambling while fixing Ulquiorra's tie (no one even wanted to know how she knew how to tie a tie in the first place), the blue-haired Espada looked at Noitra on the stairs. "And Noitra, oh wow. Halibel told me how you proposed. So romantic!" he mocked, snickering at the deadpanned look sent his way.

Halibel shooed Ulquiorra into the kitchen, telling him to sit and she would make him something to eat. Smiling at Noitra, who grimaced, she waved him over to go into the kitchen too. Ulquiorra's threat rang through Noitra's (insane) mind and he trudged to the table pathetically. Loving every moment of it, Grimmjow smirked, picked up a stack of grayish papers called a 'newspaper', and rocked on the back legs of his chair. Flipping open to a comic about a lazy cat, the Sexta Espada listened to the conversation like background noise.

"So, Ulquiorra. Are you excited?"

"No."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes."

"So you are excited than?"

"No, I am not really excited. Yes, I am really not excited."

"Oh... well, your lunch is on the counter."

He nodded and stood up from his untouched pancakes to go grab his school bag so he could out his lunch in. The conversation, dead and buried, was replaced with the sounds of the squeaky legs of Grimmjow's chair. Noitra hungrily wolfed down his breakfast, relieved to be doing something that couldn't possibly relate to his new wife, and blocked out the silence with his own loud thoughts.

_'YOU KNOW, I THINK I SHOULD PROBABLY WORK ON THE ASSIGNMENT TODAY BECAUSE THEN I WON'T HAVE TO DO ANY CREEPY BONDING CRAP WITH HALIBEL AND SHE CAN LEAVE ME ALONE AND I'LL HAVE A GOOD EXCUSE AND EVERYONE CAN LEAVE ME ALONE AND NOT BUG THE SHIT OUT OF ME ABOUT IT AND I CAN GET OUT OF THIS DUMP FASTER AND I WOULD BE BACK IN HUECO MUNDO AND NOT HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT FUCKED GIGAIS AND I'D BE ABLE TO KILL SZAYEL FOR MAKING THIS SITUATION EVEN WORSE AND...'_

At the foot of the stairs, Szayel looked into the kitchen at the awkward situation. Quirking an eyebrow when he saw Noitra looking like he was about to spontaneously combust into tiny bits, the scientist stuffed the white solution in the pockets of his sweater.

"Ah, Halibel!" Szayel greeted with a beaming smile suddenly. The sudden noise made Grimmjow have a spasm and tip over in his chair. Stepping over the cursing man, Szayel walked towards a cupboard and pulled out a plastic cup. "How are you this morning?" Back towards her, Szayel poured some milk into the glass over the table.

Behind him, Halibel smiled and flipped a pancake off a pan and onto a plate. "Not bad, Szayel, not bad at all. And yourself?"

"Fine, fine." he said dismissively. Pulling out the vial of white liquid from his pocked, he dumped the contents in the milk. Smugly, he looked across the table at Noitra who had suddenly broke out into a crazy grin. Grimmjow, who was rocking back and forth on the chair legs again, frowned. He was obviously disappointed that Halibel was going to be put back to herself but remained silent since he didn't want the other four Espada trying to beat him to death in his sleep if he messed this up.

"Halibel," Szayel called over his shoulder to the blond. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No," she said. "I'm still making everyone else's breakfast--"

"Ah, then let me finish up! You've been doing so much for us and it's the least I could do."

Halibel frowned curiously. "Okay..." she drawled. She walked to the sink to wash pancake batter off her hands and Szayel grabbed the plate of newly cooked pancakes, setting them at an empty place at the table beside Grimmjow. Noitra picked up the abandoned newspaper off the floor and hid his giant smirk behind it. Grimmjow scowled at the milk substitute, not being able to tell the difference between the real thing and whatever Szayel had poured in Halibel's drink. The concoction was obviously something that would attempt to reverse the head injury Halibel had without her ever knowing.

Silently, Ulquiorra made his way into the room. He glared at Grimmjow, who had yet to see him come in, and walked by his chair. His school bag, dangling from his wrist, hit one of the back legs of the chair. For the second time that morning, Grimmjow fell back onto the floor along with his chair with a great, big _thud_. Ulquiorra looked down at him.

"You should be more careful, Grimmjow." he warned stiffly. The comment sounded more like, 'You should learn to get the fuck away from what's mine.'

Apparently, Ulquiorra really wanted his room back.

Growling, Grimmjow made no comment and turned his chair up right and plopped back down in it. He looked at Noitra (or rather, the newspaper) who was shaking with silent laughter. Huffing, Grimmjow sulked like a little child who didn't get something he wanted. He imagined shiny daggers poking out from Ulquiorra's back as the Fourth Espada stuffed his lunch into the black backpack.

Screw it, he didn't care if_ Aizen_ got mad.

Halibel, successfully scrubbing all the grime off of her hands, sat down at the table and started to cut into her breakfast. Secretly, Noitra and Szayel peeked over at her expectantly. Ulquiorra quirked an eyebrow at the two as he sat down as well.

The room went completely silent as Halibel grabbed her milk. The birds outside, who were chirping annoyingly, quit twittering like God had struck them dead so he could see what would happen. Somewhere upstairs, Stark sighed happily at the lack and pulled his blanket over his head. Thank _you_!

Halibel took a sip of her milk and set the cup back down on the table.

Noitra threw down his newspaper. Or at least he would have, if he didn't see Szayel out of the corner of his eye, mouthing '_wait_'.

Internally, Noitra let out a relieved sigh. Wait. Alright, he could wait a minute or so for the effects to start. Anything would be better than having to deal wi--

"My drink tastes odd,"

Szayel and Noitra looked over to Ulquiorra so fast they almost got whiplash. Eyes wide and fearful, they stared while Ulquiorra frowned and looked into his cup. It was around this point that God started laughing at them.

No, wait... that was just Grimmjow.

Noitra gapped at him. "You _bitchfuck_!" he snarled at the Sixth Espada. The tall man dove across the table and tackled Grimmjow to the floor.

It was then that Grimmjow decided never to sit in a dining room chair again.

While the two rolled around on the ground, yelling threats at each other –

"I'm going to rip out your intestines and make you eat them!"

"I swear, if you don't get off me I'll make you only have one eye again!"

"There aren't enough fucking swear words in the world that can be combined to fucking yell at you!"

– Szayel screamed at the top of his lungs for Ulquiorra to throw up his drink.

Upstairs, Stark rolled around in his bed and tried to stuff pillow in his ears to ignore the chaos coming from downstairs.

_Typical morning,_ he thought. Rolling onto his face he lulled himself back to sleep.

* * *

Standing ramrod straight, Ulquiorra stood facing the classroom door. His mouth, only a thin line, quivered slightly in an almost frown. Grimmjow had gotten lucky – very lucky. Although the matter was serious, the mission was more crucial than worrying about the side-effects of Szayel's potion that was obviously not meant for him. He'd ask the pink haired Espada the details later, when he had come home and was within arm's length of a certain Sixth Espada... 

Mood reflecting his thoughts, Ulquiorra welcomed a cloud of anger and impending doom to form over his head.

He felt ridiculous; standing in the middle of the hall, dressed like every other male in the facility, not being able to have any power in his hands. And worse yet, he was in the middle of the hall _alone_. The person who had dragged him here, a 'teacher', nervously asked him to wait just outside the door.

Why? Ulquiorra particularly didn't even want to think about it.

He** wanted** to be back in Hueco Mundo, ordering around those beneath him, dammit!

Calming his nerves, Ulquiorra inhaled a large breath to control his lungs and ground his teeth together. The barbaric urge to kill that every hollow had, Vasto Lorde or not, subsided deep into his mind. He was just in time, too, because the annoyingly unsure teacher slid the class door open and gestured him inside and stand in front of the classroom. The students stared back at him blankly. Ulquiorra looked down to make sure he was wearing all his clothes. Surely enough, he was, so the Espada just wondered if all humans had glandular problems.

"Uh, class?" The teacher squeaked. "This is Urlquoria Schiffer, an exchange student." Silence. A tumbleweed blew across the classroom. Ulquiorra nearly rolled his eyes at the pathetic version of his name.

The teacher adjusted his plaid tie. "Uhm, would you like to introduce yourself to the class?"

When he was stared at expectantly, Ulquiorra could only assume he was supposed to answer. "You just introduced me. So there is no need for me to repeat what you had just said."

Another tumbleweed rolled passed the desks.

"Ah, um... okay, how about starting off from telling us where you're from?"

Ulquiorra deadpanned more than usual. He had thought up an answer for every possible question _except_ where he came from?

"Mexico," he answered automatically. Immediately, he regretted the answer when the mental image of Halibel holding a platter of tacos and Noitra wearing a giant sombrero on entered his head. The castanets clacking in the background didn't help either...

"Oh, so that explains is name." a girl of to the side whispered to another girl beside her. Ulquiorra ignored her.

"Very interesting, Schiffer-san." the teacher mumbled. Ulquiorra was relieved that the man didn't attempt to say his first name again. "So, who came with you to Japan?"

"My brothers, mother and fa--" insert cough, "--father." Brothers, he could deal with. Mother, he was becoming accustom to. But Ulquiorra nearly choked on the word 'father'.

"And how many brothers do you have?"

"Seven, but only three decided to come with us."

"Wow." The teacher was astounded by the number. "And what are their names?"

Ulquiorra gave the man an irritated look, but he was still wrapped around the fact that he had seven 'brothers'. Filthy humans. "Stark, Szayel, Yammy, Aaroniero, Zommari, _Grimmjow--" _Ulquiorra's voice easily changed from stoic to mildly angry. He glared ahead at nothing – the front row (and quite possibly second and third rows) slowly tried to slide their desks away from the undercover Espada. A guy in the audience even shrunk down in his seat and whimpered a bit.

The teacher ignored the fact that Ulquiorra had only said six names. "Okay!" his voice squeaked in an attempt to draw Ulquiorra's thoughts away from Grimmjow. "How about you go sit somewhere, Schiffer-san?" When Ulquiorra's expression snapped back to its normal dead one, the rows tried to pull themselves away from him again.

With a curt nod, Ulquiorra made his way to the only seat left available – one to the far right of the classroom nearing the back, right beside a window. The class was extremely quiet while the teacher began his lesson. Ulquiorra grabbed a notebook and pen-contraption from his bag.

"Hi, Schiffer-san!" a girl beside him gushed quietly. Ulquiorra jumped from his seat a bit at the loud noise. He eyed her warily. The girl stared at him intensely with blue eyes. Bits of her hair, blond and parted in the middle, fell on the back of her chair and the edge of her desk. She leaned over towards him a bit more and bowed sitting down. The people around her rolled their eyes and one person even smacked their forehead with their hand. "My name's Inoue Mai!"

Ulquiorra nearly had a heart attack. The girl looked dreadfully familiar to begin with and had the same surname as Inoue Orihime as well? _It's a coincidence, it's a coincidence, it's a coincidence. _The girl named Mai leaned forward a bit more._ Oh dear God, it's not a coincidence. _Ulquiorra looked out the window, refusing to stare at her face in case he might accidentally look down her shirt.

"Good morning, Inoue Mai." Ulquiorra murmured. He took a note down from the blackboard.

Again, the silence was interrupted by the bubbly girl. "So you came from Mexico? Wow! It must be so different coming to Japan. I mean, I guess the food wouldn't be all too new to you though. We have a ton of spicy food here, but I think sometimes Mexican food can be spicier but I just love putting sweet and spicy foods together! It gives what you're eating such a kick and..."

And it continued for the next 5 minutes like that. Ulquiorra felt his eyelid twitch.

Blocking out the noise, Ulquiorra attempted to listen to the teacher. "...second last year of high school. You are all almost out of here, so I suggest you think of a career path now. And on that note--"

_**BAM!**_

For the second time that day, Ulquiorra jumped a few inches off his seat. He looked outside – as did half the class, including the teacher – and heard a loud, shrill ringing from a building next door. Several crashes, bangs, and yells (who sounded _awfully _familiar) were heard and two figures ran out the doors of the building like maniacs. One, who appeared to be laughing his head off, seemed to not be running from security but from his partner. The second one ran after the first one with his arms stretched out in front of him, deciding to attempt murder. It was notable that the second one ran around with a painting jammed around his neck.

Ulquiorra slammed his head on his desk and students in a three seat radius slid their desks away from him.

"_Grimmjow,_ " he snarled, baring his teeth in the sleeve of his shirt. No one could miss that blinding blue hair. And who else to put him in a murderous rage than Noitra?

Ulquiorra almost stood up to go beat some sense into the other Espada, but a sudden giant pang in his stomach stopped him from doing so. He jolted upright, clutching his stomach in pain.

"Eh? Schiffer-san?" Inoue Mai asked curiously, leaning over again. "Is something wrong? You look pale... paler?"

Ulquiorra wanted to reach out and wring the girl's neck for her impudence. Again, he was stopped from a violent act because of his stomach problem. No one else seemed to notice. Inoue Mai, though, noticed when Schiffer-san's eyes widened suddenly (almost like he had been hit by something) before they hazed over to a darker green. His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped over.

Right on her chest.

* * *

When Ulquiorra had left for school, the first thing that happened was Halibel glared at Grimmjow and put her hands on her hips. 

"Well, I hope you're happy!" she said, pursing her lips. Grimmjow smirked and nodded. Halibel narrowed her eyes. "You do know he could get really sick or something, right?"

"Ah, he'll be fine... probably." Szayel cut in as he walked into the kitchen.

Halibel followed him briskly. "And how do you know that? I don't even know what it was, but I can honestly say that if you made it, it can't be something good!" Szayel paused and thought for a moment.

"Yea, I'll take that as a compliment." Halibel huffed and threw her hands up in the air.

"Noitra, could you help me out here?" she asked, exasperated. Noitra shook his head.

"Sorry. Can't. Assignment." His blunt answer made Halibel fume a bit more.

"Then at least take Grimmjow with you," she hissed. "I don't even want to look at any of you right now!" Grumbling, Halibel shooed Szayel out of the kitchen and closed the doors that were connected to the living room in the other Espada's faces.

"Oh well," Szayel said offhandedly. "I suppose I should work on the assignment as well." Neither of the remaining people asked any questions when Szayel walked up the stairs.

Grimmjow sighed and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He looked to Noitra. "So, what do we do now?" he asked dully.

"'Dunno. 'Suppose I could go work on the mission." Noitra responded, walking towards the door. Grimmjow matched his pace.

"What do you even have to do?" Grimmjow asked indifferently.

"Some stupid shit about human culture." came the disgusted answer.

"Sucker." Grimmjow smirked. "Can I come with you?"

Noitra looked at the Sixth Espada out of the corner of his eyes. "Tch. Whatever. Dependent freak..." he mumbled. Beside him, an irked Grimmjow grimaced but didn't respond.

And so, the two headed off into the town to visit something Aizen had described as a 'museum'.

* * *

Stark yawned loudly, sitting up in his bed. He rubbed his eyes – the meager ten hours of sleep did nothing for him and with the gigai he had no choice but to use, he was still exhausted. After the hissy-fit down in the kitchen, Stark couldn't seem to get back into a deep sleep and kept being occasionally woken up by the sun shining, birds singing, and Grimmjow's maniacal laughter. Eventually, he had just given up altogether and decided to get out of bed. He dragged his feet down the stairs – the clothes he hadn't bothered to change out of felt uncomfortable and stiff – and walked in the kitchen to see Halibel sipping on some tea while she glared at a wall. 

Stark didn't ask and just made his way to the white box called a 'refrigerator'. He reached a hand in, rummaging around. He grabbed something and pulled it out with a frown – a wad of paper? Specifically, papers Aizen had given them. Scoffing, he shoved them back into the fridge and returned it for a beer. It was immediately snatched out of his hands.

"Hey--!" he protested. Halibel glared from above him.

"You cannot have alcohol at quarter to nine, let alone for breakfast. There's some pancakes left on the counter." She shoved the drink back into the fridge and put syrup into his hands instead. Stark grumbled and went to the counter.

Putting pancakes on a plate, Stark asked, "So, any plans today, Halibel?"

"Nothing particular. I was thinking about going furniture shopping... picking up some stuff for the rooms... doing some of the mission. How about you?"

Stark grimaced. "I have to something called the 'Department of Motor Vehicles'. Learn how to do stuff. Stupid mission stuff." he said with a whiny sigh.

Halibel sat at the table and read the front page of the newspaper. "You know what I don't get? Why does Aizen-sama needs us to go to the human realm to 'gather information', but he already seems to know a ton about it?"

Stark threw his plate of pancakes onto the table. "Some things, we will never know." He stuff his mouth with half a pancake, regardless of Halibel's disgusted look. "Pass me the comics."

* * *

Grimmjow and Noitra finally came to their destination and groaned in agony at the sight of the place. 

"_This _is an art museum?" Noitra scoffed. "There's a ton of old hags around here though!" An old woman who walked by 'accidentally' smacked Noitra with her brick-like purse. She quickly shuffled away with a glare towards Grimmjow, who laughed at the scene.

"Fucking hag," Noitra scowled and rubbed his arm. Grimmjow grinned and shook his head, walking in front of the tall man. He walked in the double doors of the museum and slumped disappointedly.

"It's just a bunch of crap in here!" he shouted. All the heads in the front hall looked to him and stared dully. "...and zombies!"

Noitra shoved Grimmjow forward. "Hurry yer ass up. The sooner you do, the sooner we're outta here."

Grimmjow stumbled a bit and glared, pushing Noitra back. "Like I care," he scoffed. "I just came here cause I had nothing better to do."

Let the shoving match begin!

"Then don't complain, bitch." Shove.

"Get more insults, jackass." Shove.

"Yea, coming from you!" Shove.

Grimmjow pushed Noitra back particularly hard. Noitra fell back into a velvet rope, tripping over it and knocking a painting of a bowl of fruit off the wall. Noitra made a move to go punch Grimmjow in the face but was intercepted by a beefy man in a blue uniform.

"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the museum." the man grunted. Noitra looked behind the man to see someone in an identical outfit holding back Grimmjow. Noitra rolled his eyes and delivered the security guard a swift elbow to the gut. Noitra grinned as the man doubled over in pain and kicked the man in the head before taking off down the hall and around a corner with maniacal laughter.

"Back up! I need more back up!" Grimmjow glared at the man who held him back and was now talking into a little, black box. Taking the opportunity, Grimmjow followed Noitra's lead and kicked the man in the chest. He took off, running after Noitra.

"You bastard!" Grimmjow hissed when he caught up to an ecstatic Noitra. "We're gunna have to kill them now!"

Noitra's grin widened even more. "I'm fine with that!" Grimmjow growled and pulled Noitra down a different hall when he saw more men in blue running towards them.

"Quick, take this!" he hissed, handing Noitra the closest painting he could find.

Then, he pushed Noitra back into the hall with the security guards and took off in the opposite direction.

Panicky, Noitra looked at Grimmjow's receding form. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled, taking off after him.

Grimmjow rounded a corner and met a dead end. Cursing, he backed up and looked around for an exit sign anywhere. When he spotted one, Grimmjow pumped a fist into the air and jumped up victoriously – only to be smashed onto the ground by a painting. Noitra howled with laughter and planted his foot in Grimmjow's face.

"Try to leave me, huh? You rat!" Instead of dwelling on the traitor, Noitra ran away to the exit. Grimmjow made a fast recovery and chased after Noitra in rage while trying to tear the painting off his neck.

"I swear, I'll kill you!" Grimmjow snarled and reached his arms out while running. Noitra mocked him by laughing and ran onto the street making cars screech to a stop and honk their horns. Grimmjow followed the path, hoping from hood to hood, denting metal and breaking glass. He grabbed a handbag from an old lady – ironically, the old lady who had hit Noitra before – and chucked her purse ahead to hit his target.

Success!

Noitra fell to the cement flat on his face and gapped when a brick tumbled out of the obnoxiously large bag. "What the fuck is with these people?!" Easily picking up the brick, Noitra heaved it back at Grimmjow but missed, making it fly through someone's windshield and knock a bystander unconscious.

The two continued their epic battle all the way down the street and back to the house, where Grimmjow later destroyed the front door. Again.

* * *

A/N: That was my longest chapter. Ever. Twelve pages. Yea, that's probably sad compared to some people, but whatever. I was going to continue something with Stark at the DMV, but decided to just send in this chapter and add Stark's part to chapter 5. 

Also, for any of you who are about to ask, there is still no pairing for Ulquiorra. Inoue Mai is only in the story to freak the Espada out.

I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing chapter three; Soliderboy, Y-Kira, Von Doomsatan Productions, SecondtoNon, CandleLight-Soul and Meng-4-2! I'd especially like to thank ribbonrebel31 again, for keeping me entertained. Check out her story! T'is crack-tastic!

Review please!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: I put this chapter off soooo long for absolutely no reason.

Anyways, I've recently had a... conversion, of a sort. By the way, this won't effect the story at all (except for maybe more spotlight on a 'relationship', if you could call it that) so don't be running off on me if this isn't to your liking. I still stick to what I said.

Uh, who remembers when I said something along the lines of "There will be no serious pairing in this story, especially with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra,"

Oh, boy; oh, boy! How ironic it is that my friends changed me into a GrimmUlqui (Sorry Kai, I like GrimmUlqui wayyy more than UlqiGrimm wink) fan girl. As said, this story may now focus on these two characters more but it will definitely have no implied garbage. I'll be sure to save that for later fictions.

Anyways, there is a story to how someone like me, who didn't even like yaoi and hated pairings with Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, came to like such a thing. I was having a sleepover and my friend, the freaking amazing artist she is, draws me a picture titled "Hug an Emo Day". I'm sure you can all come to your own conclusions with that, but somehow a single – funny – picture turned me into a fan for the pair. Grr, I'm irritated with myself though, cause I love it to bits but there aren't many I find that are... suitable... to read when I share a computer with two little sisters and a father and mother. Oh well. I still read M anyways.

Now that that's done, enjoy!

--

**It's All Part of the Experience**

**Chapter Four**

**All is Fair in Food and War**

--

In the universe, there were three types of work-oriented people.

First, there were the strict, down-to-business, no nonsense workers. Those who stuck straight to the rules, did what they were told, exceeded above the limits and expectations of the high-ups. This kind of person was on time all the time – or perhaps, just prompt to the extreme. These people sat beneath the boss, waiting and waiting either for instruction or the perfect time to overturn the tables in a battle. This person could easily be put into an example of Ulquiorra Schiffer.

Next, there was the one who denied work all together; went by their own rules; played their own game. Usually, these people were expected to not last long in their high social or business career but somehow manged to maintain them for a surprisingly extensive amount of time. Cooperation? They spit at the very idea. Maybe literally or not, but it was still a good term to use in the case. Again, these people could also be put in an example, such as Grimmjow Jaegarjaques.

And then there was Stark. Lazy. Procrastination pro. Lazy again. You get the picture. And so, when he went to the Department of Motor Vehicles to register a 'car', Stark wondered why in the world he didn't hold this part off till longer. The line – the damned line – dragged on and on and what happened when he figured out he couldn't even accomplish his temporary goal because he didn't have a 'car'?

Well, nothing really.

He left the line and went out onto the street and claimed the nearest car was all. Simple as that.

Apparently, not so simple, because when Stark was demanded by the woman at the DMV to tell her how in the world he had acquired a car in under ten minutes (he would have waited in the line a longer time than that!) he was nearly escorted out of the building and into a jail cell. He denied 'stealing' a vehicle – like stated before, he _claimed_, not _stole_. Well, wasn't it a good thing Stark was a surprisingly effective sweet-talker?

"... And you're telling me this, **why**?" Grimmjow grumbled, slouched on the couch, watching channels flicker by while Noitra searched for something decent to watch.

The three sat in the living room, bored out of their evil minds, and Stark had decided it would be best to describe to the Sixth Espada the events of his day in a narrative story. "Because you have to be at this woman's house for cleaning duty at five tomorrow, of course." Stark replied casually, flipping through a car calender.

'_Huh. That one looks nice..._' Stark thought, staring at a sleek, navy blue car with a busty woman sprawled over the hood.

Suddenly, the lazy Espada found a foot connected with his head. He fumbled around with the calender before it dropped to the ground. Instead of picking it up, he looked to a fuming Grimmjow. Oh, here we go... Stark wanted to crawl under a proverbial rock.

"You what?!" Grimmjow yelled making Noitra grumble something about 'fucking loud retards'. "You **rented** me to some woman?"

Stark would have fallen asleep if Grimmjow, like many of the others, had started a rant but (un)luckily, he didn't. "I didn't rent you out. I told the girl you'd clean her house in return for not throwing me in jail." Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. Stark put his chin in his hand, which was propped on the sofa armrest. "You realize you don't gotta go, right?"

Grimmjow rolled his head back and let out a sigh – as well as delivered another kick to Stark's face. "You fuckin' moron," he growled threateningly. Stark's response was trying to rub off the two footprints now on his face. "'N what's the bitch gunna do when I don't show up, huh?"

Stark yawned loudly in Grimmjow's face. "Pfft. What could she do? I didn't give her any information or shit like that. If she goes to the law enforcers later, she'll just look bad 'cause she didn't go earlier."

Grimmjow, though obviously confused, took this as a good thing and sat back down, crossing his arms moodily. Getting over his irritation quickly, he looked over Stark's shoulder at the booklet he had picked up again. "What the hell're you looking at?" he asked, staring at the women – and shiny, metal things – that flickered by when Stark flipped through the pages.

"'Gotta get a car. I think I'm gunna get this one," he tapped a finger at the dark car he had been looking at before. "What'd ya think?"

Grimmjow snatched the calender from his superiors hands and flipped through it, deliberating. "Does the chick come with it?" he asked.

"I hope so." Stark sighed, leaning into the couch further to stare at the bikini-clad blond.

Grimmjow jumped up from his seat and tossed the picture down. "Well, what the fuck are we doing waiting around here than? Go get the damn car!"

Stark sprawled across the available couch space and stared longingly at the picture. "Can't, moron. We still gotta wait for Ulquiorra to wake up."

Just the mention of the name made Grimmjow's scowl deepen and lips curl over his lips. "Figures." he snarled. "Little bitch isn't even wake and he's ruining everything for us. I swear, one of these days-"

"-you're gunna chop him up into little pieces and serve him to Aizen during tea." Noitra snapped, finishing Grimmjow's miniature rant. "_I know. We get it._ Now get the **fuck** out of the way of the TV, dickwad!"

Grimmjow easily dodged a cup that was hurtled his way, courtesy of the Fifth Espada. When it crashed against the wall, shards of glass flew over to where Stark was sitting – laying – and stuck themselves in his forearm. The First Espada cursed halfheartedly, not feeling the right amount of pain he should have felt in the fake body but enough to give Noitra a pathetic glare attempt.

"Fuck," Grimmjow said, raising an eyebrow. "What's shoved up your ass?"

"Well, you're standing in front of the damned thing when I'm trying to watch it!" Noitra shouted making wild gestures to the television. "You make a better door than window, jackass."

Grimmjow and Stark looked from each other to Noitra and back at each other again. "Again," Stark said slowly. "What's shoved up your ass?"

Noitra scoffed and chucked the remote at Stark's head.

* * *

"Inoue Orihime is in my homeroom class!"

Now that cause a lot of weird stares. Ulquiorra jerked up in his bed, hands twisting on the hem of a white sheet. His eyes, already as large as they normally were, were widened with confusion. His head twisted to the sound of a cough.

"Uh," Stark looked at Halibel for help. "What?"

Ulquiorra relaxed, his normally placid expression falling back into place. "Inoue Orihime is in my homeroom class," he repeated, much quieter this time. Somehow, that was the first thing that came to mind when he woke up. Even before how he had ended up back in his house.

The Fourth found himself engulfed by a pair of breasts (which had a strange sense of deja vu – wasn't that what happened when he passed out?). Halibel smoothed down his black hair. "Oh, my baby is delusional! This is horrible!" she gasped. She pulled back, much to Ulquiorra's relief. "Okay, I'll go make you some hot soup right now!"

The room was silent after Halibel bustled out. "Well," Stark said. "That was awkward as hell." In response, Ulquiorra sank back into his pillow even further. Then he noticed something.

"Szayel, why are you wearing a cheap imitation of my Arrancar uniform?" he asked. With the exception of Szayel himself, everyone else smirked or laughed. Ulquiorra felt like he was being left out of a joke.

"It's the outfit of a typical healer in the human world," the man said hotly, as he basically jumped on his patient and tried to cram a mouthful of pills down his throat. "I'd just _love _if you guys would shut up and go mock someone else."

As Stark watched the pink haired man assault Ulquiorra and try to choke him, he felt the closest thing to sympathy for Szayel's fraccion.

Then again, at least Szayel hadn't tried to eat anyone yet.

Grimmjow scowled and leaned against the wall of Szayel's room – laboratory? "For fuck's sake, could we hurry this up?" he scowled. "I've gotta go get one of those cars!" This seemed to make Ulquiorra choke even more.

"You? Get a car?" he practically wheezed. "I think we can all agree we don't need any humans trying to kill us or expose us. I don't even know how Aizen-sama trusted you using sonido."

The rest of the Espada grimaced. It was so true. There were quite a few broken walls in Las Noches.

"Hey!" Grimmjow defended. "I'm not nearly as bad as the whale over here." He pointed to Noitra, who was looking at a pickled organ floating in a jar.

"Don't blame Noitra because he only has one eye," Halibel scolded, having returned with a bowl of steaming soup on a tray. "It's not his fault he has no depth perception!"

"Yea, he's made his fair-share of destruction just by not knowing how far away the door really was." Stark jumped in. When was promptly kicked in the head, the man started to think it would be safer for him to just go to his room soon.

"Quit talkin' about me, as if I ain't here!" Noitra roared, digging his heal into Stark's skull. Beside him, Grimmjow snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "it's hard to not notice a giant walking whale spoon."

"Fuck off, or I'll kill you!" he responded. Grimmjow narrowed his eyes.

"You couldn't hurt me if, even I was already half dead."

* * *

Somewhere at home, sitting in front of the computer, the reader blinked at the slight spoiler.

* * *

Halibel rolled her eyes heavily at the bickering and turned her attention to the bedridden Fourth. "Here's your soup," she offered kindly. If he weren't so hungry or feeling out it, Ulquiorra would have denied it, fearing anything that came for the new and not-so-improved Halibel. Instead, he grabbed it and set it in his lap while Halibel and Szayel talked.

"So, what's wrong with him?" she asked, sitting at the end of the bed.

Szayel shrugged with flat palms in the air. "Nothing too serious," Ulquiorra let out a small sigh of relief. "His schoolmate just said he passed out after – and I quote – 'a man with black hair, who was tall enough to be considered the giant from 'Jack and the Beanstalk', and a maniacal looking guy with blue hair busted away from museum security police like they were in a big time, supernatural, crime manga'." All three of them looked to Noitra and Grimmjow who were in a half-wresting, half-verbal fight that had Stark mixed up in the middle. Somehow, the puppy came to think they were just playing around and barked happily, running circles around the trio.

"Yea," Halibel drawled, tearing her eyes from the scene. "It must have been them." Szayel nodded in agreement.

"Anyways, that's all she said. It must have been cause by what he drank this morning." he said over a threat Grimmjow threw at Noitra, which included a flamethrower, rope and cheese grater.

"What _was_ that anyways?" Ulquiorra asked. Szayel ducked his head a bit nervously.

"You don't wanna know. Except, the best tasting ingredient in that is sand from Hueco Mundo." Ulquiorra slumped over a bit and Halibel's face turned a bit green, remembering from her pre-evolution days all the nasty and unidentifiable things that specific sand contained. "Exactly." Szayel said, shaking his head. "And the worst thing is that I can't even fix up another batch of that because I only brought enough of the--"

"No, no, that's quite alright Szayel. You really don't need to tell us." Halibel yelped, not even attempting to picture what she would have drank if her drink wasn't replaced. "Just... what's going to happen to Ulquiorra?"

"He'll be fine. If someone needed to take care of him, I'd make it be Grimmjow though since he was the bastard that got us into this mess in the first place."

Halibel laughed. "You know Grimmjow would kill you before that would happen."

"Tch," Szayel smirked. "The day I get killed by a man with blue hair is the day I'm attacked by a giant caterpillar."

* * *

Again at home, the reader became slightly annoyed with the second hint to the manga chapters not made into anime yet.

* * *

Ulquiorra quirked an eyebrow at the odd statement but dismissed it. "But I won't need to be taken care of because I'm fine, right?" he asked, hiding the nervousness in his voice completely.

"More or less, but I'd stay home for a few days..." the way he trailed off hesitantly made Halibel and Ulquiorra nervous. It was like he was leaving something out. Both eyed him expectantly.

"And?" Halibel offered, stepping forward.

"And... the potion was only made to revert and Arrancar to a human state." Szayel mumbled, turning his focus to an experiment on his desk.

Halibel gapped.

Ulquiorra dropped his spoon into the soup.

The other three (plus dog) continued their spar.

The silence was broken by a yelp from Stark. The other three looked to the arguing party. Somehow it had come to the situation where Stark was bent over at the waist, Grimmjow trying to use Stark's head as a stool to reach Noitra, who was standing on Stark's back and giving Grimmjow the finger. The puppy hung from poor Stark's sleeve, dangling like a bracelet.

For a moment, the two groups stared at each other.

"I'm going back to sleep,", "I gotta go get that car." , "I have a turkey in the oven and need to attend to it." , "This movie I wanna watch is about to start." , "I have some homework to do." , "Those iguana's aren't going to operate on themselves."

Simultaneously, they all started mumbling excuses about things they needed to do and headed towards the door, splitting off in different directions. Each and everyone of them were starting to ask themselves how they could possibly know such weirdos.

* * *

Back on the couch, Stark once again was laying on the couch languidly, daydreaming of peaceful afternoon tea, a body that allowed him to sleep whenever he wanted, and not having a mile distance between the room of his fellow Espada.

Oh, how life in Las Noches was so under-glamorized by shinigami and the like...

Las Noches was so peaceful and undisturbed, most of the time... if you didn't have two hollows in the same room, wanting to claw out each other's throats.

Stark was really starting to appreciate this luxury of peace he no longer had when the wall in front of him burst and sprayed plaster all over him. Instead of being normal and freaking out at the sight of a new, shiny blue car sticking halfway in the house, Stark did what he did best.

He rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

"Hey, get yer lazy ass up!" Grimmjow bellowed happily from the drivers seat of his new car. "I got the car!"

"No," Stark whined. "I can see you got the car, seeing as how your drove it through the house and broke the television though. You know Noitra's gunna be pissed, right?"

"Ha, like I care!" Grimmjow grinned widely, slamming the door to his new car shut. He ran over to where Stark was laying, jumping over piles of rubble. When he reached the sleeping man, he tugged on his arm like an excited child. "Come on, come on!" he begged. "You gotta see this!"

Stark groaned and rolled over onto his back. "Why don't you take Ulquiorra or Szayel with you?" he asked, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Grimmjow frowned. "Hell no! They would get gay all over it. Come on!" With one hard tug, Stark was off the couch and being dragged to the new car.

"What is it?" Stark sighed, running a hand over the glossy paint that was somehow not scratched. In fact, even after being drove through the house, the car seemed still in perfect shape.

Grimmjow beamed over his new toy. "C5 Corvette," (A/N: Ha! I even looked it up! In google images, if you type "blue sports car", that car's the first image to come up. Yes, I'm completely car-illiterate.) he said, hopping into the drivers seat. Stark jumped five feet away when he suddenly blasted the horn and roared with laughter. "Get in. Let's go for a drive!"

Shrugging, Stark was about to, but was stopped when there was a shriek from behind him. "Grimmjow!" Halibel screamed. "What did you do?!" She dropped the papers in her hand out of shock, seeing the blue car _in her house_.

Again, Grimmjow honked the horn. "I got a car, 'course!" he yelled back, stick his head out the window. His smirk never left, even when Halibel stormed over to him and opened the door to drag him out.

"And you couldn't park it in the driveway, like a normal person?" she exclaimed, making wild gestures to the hole that seemed to devour most of the living room.

"Nah, I thought this was way more fun." He shook her hand off his arm and ducked back into the car. "You bastards really need to lighten up. I've been thinking about it, and this is basically a vacation for us, you know?"

The other two looked at him with incredulous expressions. "No!" Halibel screeched, throwing her arms into the air. "Not when we've been forced to leave the comfort of our home and sent to do work! Which you probably haven't even started on, I bet." she scolded.

"Of course he hasn't," Ulquiorra said, appearing out of no where. The three jolted up from their places.

"Fuck!" Grimmjow said shakily. "Would you _not fucking_ do that?!" he yelled, pointing to the melancholy Espada. Ulquiorra stared back at him blankly, and then looked to his car.

"Reckless as ever," he noted. "But then again, I shouldn't be shocked, considering you are such an uncivil animal." Grimmjow was about to yell something, most likely an insult about Ulquiorra's sexuality (if he even has one), but was interrupted by Stark.

"How the hell did you even get a car? As far as I know, they don't just give them out."

Szayel, who had just walked into the room, picked up on the conversation, immediately knowing what it was about – his clue was probably the car through the house.

Probably.

"Threat," he answered. Grimmjow glared at him. "You're not much of a sweet-talker, are you Grimmjow?" Immaturely, the blue-haired man gave Szayel the finger.

"Fuck off, gay." he snarled, sticking the key in the ignition. The engine roared, startling the others into backing away a few feet. Grimmjow set out into reverse speedily, nearly destroying a tree on the way.

Everyone just stared blankly at the car as it sped away.

Halibel began to clean up the mess Grimmjow left behind. "What is wrong with that man?" she asked, exasperated.

"Many things," everyone answered at the same time, leaving to go to their respective activities. Halibel sighed when the only one who stuck around to help her was Ulquiorra.

"You know, maybe this is for the better..." she said, more to herself than anything. "If he's out of the house with his car, he can't destroy it."

Ulquiorra looked doubtful. "For the better?" he asked. "If he's not destroying something here, he's going to be destroying something else _not here_." If he were someone else, he may feel sorry for the rest of the world and the wake of destruction Grimmjow would leave in his wake. "I'll believe that this is for the better when Aizen-sama decides to put me in charge of Las Noches, and if we find out that the Vizard used to be shinigami captains and vice captains."

* * *

Outraged, the reader thought Hearii went too far with that last comment and pulled up the review page to send an angry note to the author about the importance of spoiler warnings.

* * *

**A/N**: Teehee. Couldn't resist those spoilers... If someone actually does send me an angry review about that, I might die laughing at how pathetic that person is.

Yes, Grimmjow's car is a sick car. :)

Itachi from Naruto dies in the worst way ever. My sister mocks it, like, everyday.

Barragan is an awful name. No wonder we weren't told it sooner.

Why won't Yammi die? Can I devour his soul?

Szayel is the only person ever to have pants that can withstand an explosion without being harmed in any way. Szayel has chastity pants. XD

-freaks out- Ulquiorra, you didn't stay in the time out and now you're gunna die! Goddammit, you better do something completely awesome to make up for that act of stupidity! Grr...

As much as I hate advertising, Shrapnel is an awesome story. Check it out. Grimmjow's completely insane in it, and it's somehow lovable. And Ulquiorra just pwns.

...Don't judge me. I suddenly feel very random.

Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

I've also been busy writing half-assed incomplete GrimmUlqui one shots and prompts – that pairing needs more love. Leave me alone.

Just for future reference, I think the Espada are doing their assignment in Canada – probably because I **live** in Canada. I don't know other people's government hierarchy as well as I do Canada's, nor am I bothered to look it up. Go being an ignorant North American! So yea... MPP stands for 'Member of Provincial Parliament'. Don't ask why they use Japanese titles – I just thought of this on the spot. Just let it slide. v.v

I have a feeling you're gunna be a bit pissed, Meepy (or any other non-GrimmUlqui fans). Please don't though, because I planned this chapter _before_ my GrimmUlqui obsession. Ya know... back when I hated GrimmUlqui because I didn't like yaoi. -cough-

I've never seen the movie '_Cujo_', nor read the book.

I dedicate this chapter to '_Death Note_' by Takeshi Obata. Obviously, I do not own the genius manga/anime.

**--**

**It's All Part of the Experience  
**

**Chapter Six**

**It's a Hate-Hate Relationship  
**

**--**

Perhaps Ulquiorra was right. Maybe Grimmjow getting a car was a good idea, as he spent more time than anyone would have thought out of the house, and thankfully out of their lives. He did God-knows-what, but he always insisted that it was nothing. The response was thrown around airily, making no one take no note on the vague response. Or, at least everyone was led to believe.

He couldn't be doing _nothing_. It just wasn't possible for someone of Grimmjow's habits and personality to be doing nothing in the first place, so why should Ulquiorra believe that bag of lies? It was irritating to no end. Every time Halibel would ask in that all-too happy and joyful voice 'Oh, what did you do while you were out, Grimmjow?' and he would answer with a gruff 'nothing', it grated on Ulquiorra's nerves. It just wasn't right. He should have cared, anyways.

He blamed it on natural human curiosity. Over the couple of days he had stayed home from school due to a sudden 'sickness' and the dim-witted schooling-humans never seemed to doubt it. What was even more disgusting was the living patterns Ulquiorra had developed, the human senses sinking in. He got splitting headaches from listening to his fellow Arrancar yell and scream every moment of the day. And not those silly, insignificant head throbs he only used to get. Oh, no. Head-bashing, make-you-want-to-murder-everything-blindly headaches. Not only that, but he felt the full effects of sickness in his midsection. Once, he even had Halibel claim he was 'warm' after she put a hand on his forehead. He had no idea what it had meant, but it must not have been a good sign by the frown she had when saying it. All in all, human life was awful.

There was one thing worse than all the headaches and sickness in the world though. Her name was Halibel. A woman once feared and/or respected by eight deadly men, reduced to nothing but a babbling and maternal fool. And of course, knowing his luck, the woman took it out on him.

"Smile, Ulquiorra!" Oh, he would do no such thing, especially not when Halibel had insisted on suddenly blinding him with a bright flash.

"Uh... Halibel, what are you doing?" Stark. At least he was being reasonable enough to question the wench's – yes, that's correct. Ulquiorra _did_ just call his superior a wench – motives for blinding him with a small box.

Halibel brightened and Ulquiorra visibly winced, swearing he was almost blinded again. "Well, you see, Ulquiorra had his first day on a mission as an Espada, right? Normal people don't go around making memories of that, of course-" there was a failure to notice that _they weren't normal_ people to begin with. "-but now we have an exception to our little group! Ulquiorra now is a normal human, meaning we should treat him as such. Also, from the research I've been doing, I discovered that human mothers document their child's first day at school. And technically this is my son's first day going to school as a human. So say cheese!" There was another bright flash going in Stark's general direction, and the first Espada nearly tumbled over when he backed up into a end table.

"Well, I suppose," Stark struggled for words, not wanting to offend the hyperactive woman. "that kind of makes sense." He scratched his head and lumbered back into the safety of the kitchen to avoid any more snapshots coming from the camera happy woman.

Ulquiorra felt another skull-destroying headache beginning to form when Halibel bounded over to him and started evening out his already straightened uniform. He moved to swat her hand away, but it had already strayed away and gone to the task of getting him his backpack. She handed it to him eagerly, either missing or ignoring the desperate look he gave Szayel as he headed into the kitchen.

"Okay, now, I know you're an Espada but be nice to the others, okay? Make sure to get all the homework you missed from your teachers. Here's some money to buy your lunch." She handed him a folded bill, but still continued with her ranting. Behind him, Ulquiorra heard the door open and Grimmjow entered the house, just returning from his early morning car ride. Halibel stopped her talking and smiled to Grimmjow. "Good morning, Grimmjow."

The lucky bastard only had to grunt an answer. It was something that Ulquiorra or Noitra would never have the option of doing on pain of severe questioning and interrogation. Grimmjow shoved his hands into his jean pockets and walked towards the kitchen – only to be stopped when Halibel grabbed onto his elbow and guided him around in a circle to face her.

"Ahm, so what did you do while you were out?" she asked.

Grimmjow rolled his eyes like an immature preschool brat and dug his hands even deeper into his pockets. "Nothing," he groaned.

_Grating on my nerves, grating on my nerves. Goddamn routines._

He started to turn back around, figuring she would leave their conversation at that. Surprisingly enough, she kept her grip on his elbow and suddenly asked, "Do you think you could drive Ulquiorra to school?"

Both pairs of eyes widened and looked skeptically at the blond woman.

"But... I just had it cleaned!" Grimmjow protested loudly.

"Who ever stated that I wished for a ride into school, anyways?" Ulquiorra snapped back, not taking too kindly to the insult. Again, he blamed it on just another side-effect to being human.

"Please?" Halibel pleaded. "It's necessarily his first day today, so he should get a ride. He won't ever have to do it again either, especially when he gets his own car!"

Ulquiorra looked even more skeptical. "Who ever stated I wished to have one of those metal contraptions?" Apparently his opinion no longer mattered amongst his fellow comrades, as he was completely ignored by both Halibel and Grimmjow.

When Grimmjow groaned, Halibel began to bargain. "I'll make fish tonight," she sang and Grimmjow's attention was caught. Ulquiorra rolled his eyes at such a weak nature. Oh, what have the mighty Espada become? Just normal citizens, indulging on simple compromises like_ food_.

"Fine," Grimmjow mumbled, taking his keys out of his right pocket. No sooner had he walked in the door was he turning around to go back out to his car, caving under Halibel's green eyes. "Hurry up, you sunnuva bitch."

* * *

The insult was obviously not caught by Halibel, due to the fact that she turned her attention back to her son. Like there was no interruption at all, she began listing off school tips that she must have picked up from what one of her subjects under surveillance had told her own spawn of a young age. This became extremely evident when she listed off the reasons for sharing your toys during recess time.

Although Grimmjow had his specific reasons for not wanting Ulquiorra in his new car, the Fourth Espada also had his grounds for not wanting to ride in the passengers seat of the blue sports car. No, it was not due to some sort of metaphorical nonsense about sitting as passenger while Grimmjow took the lead, signifying some sort of pride. Of course not – the motives were much simpler and rational to anyone.

Take a moment, if you would, to imagine someone with no sense of compassion, logic or sense of self preservation getting their hands on a steering wheel. The person's reaction to having the ability to control where they go, when they go, how fast they go... It was a very disturbing thought.

This was the emotion Ulquiorra was feeling, at least, as he watched scenery go by at an alarming rate. Digging his nails into the leather armrest of his seat he watched the orange needle on the speedometer flicker lower and lower to the right, speed rising. The insane look on Grimmjow's face as they bolted down a dirt road made Ulquiorra sink back into his seat, turn his head to the driver and snarl.

"Would you slow down?" he growled, clenching his fingers more and more as the needle lowered as far as it could go. Grimmjow looked away from the road completely, and Ulquiorra decided he desperately missed sonido. At least that way he could control his own actions and know he was not going to fuck something up. He couldn't say as much from the reckless bastard to his left though.

"Are you kiddin'?!" Grimmjow roared over the grumbling of the engine. "Look at the needle-fucker! It isn't even up high!" A finger was jammed in the general direction of the smaller measurement generator that was only labeled with the letters E and F.

"I believe you're looking at the wrong measurements, trash." Ulquiorra pointed out, wondering if it would be safer to jump out of the car at such a speed rather than keep enduring it.

Grimmjow turned his attention back to the road, narrowly avoiding a mailbox on the side of the road. He shook his head. "Since when the fuck have you driven a car?" he asked. "Never. That's right. So shut yer mouth and hang on tight."

It wasn't such a good warning, considering he yelled it while he jammed a foot on the break and turned a corner. Dust flung up from all sides of the car as it was slightly lifted off the ground and almost rolled into a ditch. Ulquiorra sent a terrifying glare at the wide grin Grimmjow gave him after his head was slammed violently against the passenger window. Piece of trash probably did it on purpose too.

Unluckily for Ulquiorra, Grimmjow had repeated the process more than was necessary – by the time the had reached the inner workings of the city, the side of Ulquiorra's head was sporting a minor bump. He was about ready to jump at the other man's throat, content with plotting to murder him, but was slightly disappointed when Grimmjow pulled up to the school parking lot.

Ulquiorra gingerly opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement. Seeing the ground no longer moving at tops speed was a good sign – perhaps he wasn't as disappointed as he originally thought. Looking back into the car, he snatched his backpack from the car floor and ignored the giant smirk Grimmjow was sending him. Obviously, there must have been something damn funny about his expression at the moment because Ulquiorra could see nothing else to be amused with. Without so much as a goodbye, he slammed the car door in the face of the devil and slung his backpack over his shoulder.

And suddenly, he was face-to-face with wide, overly-blue eyes. Blinking, Ulquiorra stepped back a few feet and pressed his back to the glossy exterior of Grimmjow's car, creating space between himself and the face that invaded his personal bubble. Inoue Mai crossed her arms behind her back girlishly, and bowed about a fourth of her height down, flashing a bright smile.

"Ah, good morning, Schiffer-san!" she giggled nervously. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better than when you were on Thursday. I was becoming a bit worried when you didn't show up the next day."

Suddenly, the car door reopened and he spotted Grimmjow leaning across the passenger seat, still bearing his teeth in a deformed sort of smile.

"Is this the thing _The Great_ Ulquiorra Schiffer was afraid of seeing?" he asked and Ulquiorra glowered. In response, he slammed the door closed in Grimmjow's face, dissatisfied when he didn't get the opportunity to catch Grimmjow's fingers between the metal frames. He stepped away from the car and started his way towards the school entrance, completely ignoring the infuriatingly peppy girl. He didn't look back, even when he, gratefully, heard the shrieking of tire rubber on gravel.

Even though completely ignored, Inoue Mai stilled walked beside him looking at Ulquiorra expectantly. She leaned forward, looking directly at him, walking on an angle, staring at him way to intensely for comfort; for most people, at least. Ulquiorra, on the other hand, just looked ahead at the double doors. Eventually, she'd have to stop doing... that. There was a pole coming up.

Too bad she didn't see it, though. Ulquiorra could argue he heard a hollow '_t-ing!_' as her head collided with metal, but he didn't hesitate walking to find out. He had much better things to do than give sympathy to a human girl – like drown in homework. It was something he'd much rather do.

* * *

Szayel sighed and tossed his head back over the couch armrest in hopelessness._ Why am I receiving so little attention?_ he whined internally. It's not like he hasn't been doing anything for the past five ch-- since they came to the human world. In fact, he'd diligently worked on his assignment rather efficiently. Human politics were so easily submitted to him, or rather the crowds were drawn in by his charisma, and he'd been doing well in polls. Except... except he still needed to draw in that little percent that was not already on his side. Apparently they were persuaded away from his side by the pink hair... figures.

Rolling off the couch in an uncharacteristic sloppiness (_Ugh, these campaigns are _totally_ throwing my sleeping cycle off!_) he swiped the remote off the coffee table. He sat on the floor, flipping through local channels quickly. _Cartoons... News... News... Talk Show... Movie... Politics... Soap Opera._

_Ooh, Soap Opera._

Szayel settled on the channel and tossed the remote behind him, back onto the couch. He only was able to watch the overly-cliché scene of a woman screaming dramatically while she clutched onto the shirt of some unrealistically handsome man before something clicked.

Hey, wait. That was **him** on the politics station!

Szayel struggled with himself, regretting not making these bodies more flexible, to grab the remote again. He flicked back to the other station and turned up the volume just a little louder to hear him answering the end of a reporters question expertly. Again, Szayel liked to point out that politics were easy and reporters questions were child's play.

"... the health care system would therefore be immensely improved in that aspect." Szayel's television-self concluded, looking down from the podium at the audience. All different people were either doing one of three things – scribbling down his response on a notepad; waiting for the next question to be answered, or discussing with someone.

Just then, Szayel in real life got his attention caught on someone in the audience before the camera view flickered to a close-up of him.

"No, no, no! Go back!" Szayel yelled at the television, but calmed down after a second. "But wow... do I look amazing or what?"

The camera angle showed a side view of the audience again for a longer time and Szayel stood up and leaned close to the television to look for the man who caught his attention a moment ago. The man was easily spotted in the crowd by the oddity of his hair – a flaming red colour.

Szayel blinked. He leaned a bit closer to the point where we was nearly touching the screen. Suddenly, he jerked back and let out a yelp when he accidentally flipped himself over the back of the couch.

Oh my god... oh my god, ohmygod, omg! Szayel clutched his head with both hands as he felt a headache coming on from landing on his head. That was the least of his worries though, he realized as he stared at the scre--

Oh. The camera was back on him. Damn, his hair was styled impeccably! He'd have to bring a few bottles of the humans shampoo back to Hueco Mundo when, if, they went back.

Wait, there he was again! Abarai! Abarai was at his fucking conference! No two people could have that same hideous hair, regardless if one was dead!

Szayel plopped down on the couch and stared blankly at the screen again. This all made no sense – first that Inoue girl and now Abarai Renji? They were both gone. They were supposed to be dead! Honestly, Szayel had killed Abarai with his own two hands and Inoue was killed when -- wait, how did she die again? Szayel made a mental note to ask someone about it later, if he still remembered or cared when he saw someone who'd know.

But... they were back though. How did it work? This Abarai obviously didn't have the ridiculous, gay-signaling tattoos that he used to, but his dumbfounded and angry facial expression was all the same. Not only that, but the hair was still able to mortify him.

Ugh, seriously? Florescent red? What was he thinking when he decided to be born with that colour hair?

Szayel turned off the TV and decided it would probably be smart to talk to someone sensible about this problem.

Oh. Crap. Well, he was screwed.

* * *

Noitra groaned as he flipped the channels to find something suitable to watch, before landing on some movie about a rabid mutt. He settled himself back into the couch – where _had_ they gotten this thing anyways? For leather, it was extremely comfortable – and absentmindedly pet their own dog, while laughing when the first thing he saw on the screen was a dog tear at someone's skin.

Noitra wondered if this would be considered working on his assignment. This _was_ part of the culture of this area, he determined, and all he had been doing for the past few days was channel surfing. If this was working, Noitra would say he was doing a damn good job. Meanwhile, all the others were stuck doing their crappy assignments. Halibel was stalking some families, Ulquiorra was off being a smartass, Stark was actually off his lazy ass and about, Szayel left an hour prior (muttering something about 'blinding hair', whatever that meant), and Noitra could honestly say he didn't wanna know what Grimmjow was doing. He'd be damned if he was at another museum.

Whatever. He couldn't care less about what the other Espada (_Ha!_ Noitra laughed in his head. _Other four Espada plus a pathetic __**human**__!_) were up to as long as they weren't bugging him.

It took another hour of watching the movie before the credits started rolling and Noitra lugged himself off the couch to get something to eat. Missing the attention, the dog persistently followed along side of him and whimpered for food. Noitra hit it with the fridge door lightly and the dog set its head in its paws.

"Come to think of it," Noitra said out loud. "You don't have a fuckin' name, do ya? ... Or official gender, but like hell I'm going there." The dog whimpered again and lolled out its tongue when Noitra pulled out some leftover chicken.

"Whatever. I'm callin' ya Cujo from now on, even though you didn't fit the dog from that movie at all. Maybe if I kicked ya while Ulquiorra wasn't around..." Noitra pulled back his leg in demonstration and the newly named dog, Cujo, rolled over on its back in submission. "Oh, fucking figures. You really are Ulquiorra's dog." Noitra scoffed as he got a drink. When he went to grab his food, it was gone.

...

The dog was gone too.

" Son of a bitch!" Noitra snarled, nearly smashing his glass when he set it down. He bolted up the stairs and followed the bits of food, intent on _actually _kicking the dog now. The only door open was Szayel's so Noitra did the only logical thing – he stormed in there with no thought about consequences.

The room was dark, as expected, but there was a disturbing feel to the atmosphere. When he flipped on the lights he knew why – the guy's room was now a full-fucking laboratory, not only a portion like it was a few days ago. Noitra vaguely wondered how he could have already bloodied the operating table in the corner (Note to self: Check body for any stitches.) but he was more concerned about where that damn dog went with _his_ chicken.

"Ah, there you are," Noitra growled at Cujo, who gnawed on a bone in a far corner. He reached down to grab the dog by the scruff of its neck.

"What are you doing, Noitra?" Halibel and Szayel stood in the doorway, giving Noitra a skeptical look. Halibel handed over the grocery bags she was holding to Szayel and picked up the dog gently before her supposed husband could get his hands on it.

Noitra scoffed and leaned against the wall. "It stole my chicken." The look Halibel gave him made him feel like he was a child being scolded by his mother.

"Well, I told you to feed him--" the female Espada looked under the dog. "Yea, him. I told you to feed him before I left!" she accused, cuddling the dog to her chest. "And what do you mean, 'he stole my chicken'? I'm sure you could have lived without."

Noitra huffed and occupied himself with looking at the contraptions on Szayel's desk. "Whatever." Something caught his attention on the desk and he held up a pair of handcuffs connected by a long chain.

"Uhh..." Noitra gave Szayel an odd look. "I never woulda suspected you to be inta that kinda thing." The other handcuff hole dangled to the ground when Noitra tried to find a keyhole in the upper loop.

Szayel rolled his eyes and tried to snatch the handcuffs while he held three bags of food. "I'm not. I'm working on creating an element that can hold out longer than normal metal. I chose handcuffs because that way I can attach two objects that repel each other to see how long they can withstand pressure."

Although Halibel was busy showing Cujo with affection, Noitra looked genuinely interested in what Szayel has said. A maniacal grin broke out on his face.

"Hey, I've got two repellin' objects for you; if you wanna have some fun that is."

Halibel stopped her coddling of the puppy and gave Noitra the evil eye. "Noitra..." she warned. She could almost here the wheel turning in his head but was thrown off when he tossed a long arm around her shoulders. Not once did his smirk falter.

"Nah, dun worry about it. You'll like this plan..."

* * *

Ulquiorra was very tempted to rub his temples as the girl beside him still babbled on about how he was feeling. It had been hours – hours! - and she was still trying to get a response out of him. If he didn't have loads of self-restraint, Ulquiorra would have just stopped ignoring her and flat out told her to leave him alone; maybe if she kept it up throughout the week, because she obviously wasn't getting the message.

It was finally the end of the day and he would get to walk back home in peace. Peace for about a half and hour before he returned home to face screaming, threats, insults, and worst of all, coddling. He would also have to work around all of the to complete his homework in his backpack, which felt like cinder blocks were tied to his back. G-r-e-a-t.

For the slightest moment, Ulquiorra lost his composure and slumped forward. Figures, that as soon as it happens, Inoue Mai popped out of no where.

" Ah, Schiffer-san! Are you alright?" Ulquiorra mentally twitched. Was she **stalking** him or something?

His response was silence.

"Oh, you walk this way too?" she asked. "So do I! We can walk together, okay?"

_Ulquiorra held his tongue with a lot of restraint. Screw off, screw off, screw off..._

Taking a step onto the road, Inoue opened her mouth to say something but was promptly cut off by tires screeching. She jumped back onto the sidewalk as Grimmjow stuck his head out of the window of his car.

"Holy fuck!" he yelled angrily. "Watch were yer going!"

Inoue blinked. "But... the light is red!" she explained, pointing the the crosswalk which gave the okay to walk. Grimmjow responded by giving her the finger and Ulquiorra mentally thanked him because she looked like she was going to cry afterwards.

"Hey, fag!" Ulquiorra mentally un-thanked Grimmjow. "Halibel told me to pick you up, so hurry and get yer ass over here before I decide to run you over instead."

Inoue Mai's constant stalking... or Grimmjow's life-threatening driving... decisions, decisions.

_Grimmjow won by a long shot, which is pathetic. _Ulquiorra sighed as he leaned back in the leather seat as said reckless driver sped down a highway at incredible speeds.

* * *

Stark withheld a yawn as he leaned on the armrest of a simple, uncomfortable chair. The well-dressed man in front of him flipped through various sheets of paper at a slow speed, making start drowsy just watching.

"You have a very impressive resume, Mister..." The man frowned and shifted through some more pages, trying to find Stark's last name. Said man decided to save him the trouble.

"Just call me Stark," he offered. Mr. Suit-Employer flashed him an apologetic smile and set the papers down.

"There's just one thing I don't understand," the man scratched his balding head. "You're more than qualified for high-paying positions here, so why do you want to be mail room clerk?"

Stark tried to make himself more comfortable in the hard chair. "Uh... well, I've just moved here. I'm looking for something easy to start off. You know, just to adjust."

The man laughed in good nature and opened a desk drawer to grab even more papers, like he didn't have enough as it was. "Well, if you're looking for something a bit easier to start with, we just got a position available as a line manager that should be fairly basic for you, considering your skills. Perhaps you'd like to try that one out?"

Stark blinked. That was fairly unexpected, and Stark was sure that there wasn't anything he couldn't do that a human could. Still, the question popped out: "What happened to the last guy."

"He committed suicide."

Stark gave the man a curious look and raised his eyebrows. Right. Suicide. He'd keep that in mind for if he ended up hating the job. Still, other than that unfortunate accident, he didn't see a problem in taking up an offer for a different job. More experience would probably be better, henceforth get him off this stupid dimension faster. It was not surprising that even after having spent some time in the human world, they still hated it. And each other.

"Ah, sure. Why not?" Stark said, reaching forward to shake the man's hand. Instead, the employer eagerly shoved the papers in his hands.

"It's a pleasure to have you join the team, Mr. Stark."

* * *

Halibel thought Ulquiorra was going to break his pencil. Szayel thought Grimmjow was going to be strangled soon. And Noitra... well, Noitra thought this was going to be fun.

"Hey, you remember when I trapped ya in Caja Negacion? You were pissed for days after, but ya never got me back!"

This, for instance, is one of the comments Grimmjow made to attempt to irritate Ulquiorra. Normally, as this was a daily and after dinner occurrence, Ulquiorra could brush it off. But apparently, Grimmjow's snide comments combined with algebra homework was not a rather good mix and everyone could see Ulquiorra's face tighten with anger.

_Remember the supposed BEDMAS. Brackets, exponents, division, multipli--_

"What the fuck? This retard on the television with a letter for a name looks like emo kid!" Grimmjow yelled, laughing at the same time. Noitra leaned closer to make the resemblance, and saw no reason to argue the point. Noitra laughed and Halibel started setting down cups of soda in front of everyone. Szayel, not paying attention to anything really, started muttering scientific nonsense under his breath that sounded suspiciously like statistics. Stark, the narcoleptic he was, was sprawled over the couch armrest and was snoring lightly.

Grimmjow snarled insults obnoxiously, Halibel kept setting things down with quiet '_t-ings!_', Noitra continued to laugh, Stark's snoring grew louder, and Szayel began to shift in his seat causing the springs to groan.

It only took one comment for Ulquiorra to strike.

_Then the length is divided by the width to cancel out each side of the equation, making the height isolated after I divide each answer by the sum of seven divided by two--_

"You know what? I bet that L guy is gay. Ironic, isn't it, Ulquio--"

It was safe to say that Ulquiorra's pencil snapped, Grimmjow was being strangled, and it was fun... to watch. It was also safe to say that Grimmjow did not expect Ulquiorra to jump over the coffee table and completely tackle him.

Halibel let out a panicky noise when both of them toppled over the couch and rolled around on the ground fighting. "Noitra, Noitra! Do something!" she hissed.

Surprisingly, Noitra complied. While Ulquiorra was trying to pry Grimmjow's hands off his neck, and Grimmjow was attempting to get Ulquiorra to stop kicking him in the stomach, Noitra took the element of surprise as his advantage. He loomed over the two and quickly put his plan of annoyance into action.

_Ch-cling!_

_Ch-cling!_

Both Grimmjow and Ulquiorra immediately stopped what they were doing to stare at the chain attached to their wrists. When they saw that the chain connected to each other, they jumped away to opposite sides of the room.

Or at least they tried. Grimmjow's arm was pulled by the chain and Ulquiorra face planted on the ground, apparently not being able to hold that much pressure on his arm.

"What the fuck is this?!" Grimmjow snarled at Noitra who was laughing maniacally at Ulquiorra.

Halibel answered, "...It-It's not really what I expected." Ulquiorra pulled himself up from the hardwood but looked more than relieved to hear the only semi-sensible one (other than himself, of course) was going to stop this before it even started. "But it is rather ingenious."

Ulquiorra felt like smacking himself for ever thinking something would go in his favour in this inferior world.

"Yes." Szayel agreed, holding in a chuckle at Grimmjow's enraged expression. "Hopefully you two will learn to get along."

Stark, who had seemed to taken a bit of the fight as well from when the couch he was sitting on flipped over, winced as he rubbed the back of his head. "Or at least learning to tolerate each other would be better for everyone."

"I could tolerate him--" Ulquiorra started.

"Yea, never mind that you completely tried to kill me there." Grimmjow snapped back.

"I wouldn't have to try to kill you if you'd stop being the nonconforming piece of trash you--"

"See?!" Halibel screeched. "This is exactly what we're talking about!" She glared all around the room at not only Grimmjow and Ulquiorra, but everyone. "You all need to take a lesson on cooperation. I've seen five year olds get along better than all of you! I swear I will find a way to make you all see the idiocy in this pure... idiocy!"

No one dared call her on the oddity of the last sentence.

"Furthermore, you all can't keep acting like this, especially since I'm not going to be around next week." she said sternly. Noitra quirked and eyebrow, telling her to elaborate. "The humans I'm watching are going on an escapade of some sort. I need to see exactly what's going on and it's going to last a week – meaning you all are going to be on your own.

"If I come back and the house is completely destroyed, disfigured or-" she gave a meaningful look to Grimmjow "-kicked in by any way, I will make sure none of you will get back to Hueco Mundo unscathed."

Although Halibel had completely lost her vicious mannerisms nearly as soon as their mission began a month ago, all of them felt the threat in her tone.

"So you're going to miss some of this?" Noitra exclaimed, gesturing to the handcuffed duo who seethed.

"Exactly how long are we going to be--" Needless to say, Ulquiorra was sick of being interrupted.

"I'm afraid so. I dearly hope none of you die while I leave you to fend for yourself next week."

Everyone could hear the diabolical wheels in Noitra's sadist-masochist mind spin. Halibel gone for a week; house to themselves; easy victims; him second in charge (Ulquiorra was down for the count. A human would not tell the Espada what to do.); oh yea. Everyone was in for a helluva week once Halibel left.

Grimmjow decided to personally stop the plotting before it grew. He close-lined the tall man with the chain; unfortunately for Ulquiorra he was dragged along as well. "You stupid sunnuva bitch, don't you dare start getting any retarded ideas. I'm already fuckin' pissed I'm attached to a whinny emo bitch 'cause of you all – which I will kill you all for as soon as I get outta it – but I am not gunna let someone who looks like a deformed elf put my life in danger over a twisted mission precious 'Aizen-sama' gave us!"

Noitra scowled and rubbed his throat. "You better watch yourself, _Sexta_ Espada. You never know when a cinder block could be coincidentally about to fall on your retarded head."

"No!" Halibel yelled, scolding Noitra and Grimmjow. "No, no, no! There will be no pranks," Like hell. "injuries," Like hell. "or any deaths!" ...Oh, come on. Get real. "You will all be fine and dandy when I come back. This is not just some excuse to see if Espada can murder each other in a week. I will give you all things to do to keep everything in order. Everyone will go about their mission normally."

"Halibel, how do we--"

"Yes, yes, Ulquiorra. I suppose you can't do the mission until you and Grimmjow learn to work together enough to find a way for the handcuffs to come off."

"I've got an idea," Grimmjow offered.

"This should be g--" Grimmjow pointedly glared at Ulquiorra and tugged harshly on the chain to get him to shut up.

He continued. "Why don't I get in my car while Ulquiorra is tied to a tree and I'll start to drive away. The chain should snap."

"I don't see why I--"

Szayel sighed. "Grimmjow, there are a few flaws with that plan. One, the chain I created has a base of the humans most indestructible compounds. Two, the tree would probably take more of a hit than the chain. And three, Ulquiorra's only human and would take more of a hit than the tree _or_ the chain and probably die."

Grimmjow stared at the pink-haired scientist like he was a moron. "Okay... that just gave me more of a reason to do it." He grinned evilly down at Ulquiorra. "That, or we could just cut off your hand."

Ulquiorra opened his mouth to say something when it looked like no one was about to interrupt him. "Why are you insisting that--"

"I think you two are just gunna have to deal with it." Stark yawned. "And fast, because if we all have to stick around and wait for you two to finish your missions after we're done, I'll personally take care of it myself."

Ulquiorra glowed at everyone in the room. Fine, if they wanted to interrupt him, they could go on ahead. He just needed to say one thing,

"Yes, but what about living accommodation such as--"

Noitra smirked at Ulquiorra and purposely stopped him with the most off-topic thing he could think of. "Wait a minute. I forgot to tell you all that I officially named the dog since Ulquiorra seems like too much of a bitch to do it himself. He's now Cujo."

The dog yelped from his place near the window in agreement.

"You named the dog I--"

"Ahh! I just realized you both knocked over the drinks with your fighting!" Halibel exclaimed. "I have to clean it up before it soaks into anything."

Sadly, Halibel was confused as to why Ulquiorra gave them all the most evil look she had ever seen and left the room.

Or tried to, before Grimmjow pulled on the chain and made him fall flat on his face again.

* * *

A/N: Oemgee! I ish finally done this chapter after... nearly two months. -is shot-

Uhm... yea. I'd like to thank all those who reviewed and give Kai and extra big 'Happy birthday!', since my other gift was a total bust. -is shot again-

I will leave you all with the final note of this will still remain a not a romance story. No UlquiHime. No GrimmUlqui (much to my dismay). I'd put those characters down under the character listing if it were.


End file.
